Bella's Bachelorette Bash
by LindaRoo
Summary: Alice throws Bella a surprise bachelorette party in a posh Portland penthouse, complete with sexy games, embarrassing gifts, tequila shots, a stripper named Emmett, and a night of clubbing. Rated M for sexual dialogue and adult situations.
1. Sparkling Glorified Icicles

_Author's Note: The following story is rated M for sexual dialogue, adult situations, underage drinking, and general lunacy. Reader discretion is advised. All characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer and Little Brown publishing._

_A big thanks to my betas, MarcyJ and blondie AKA Robin, for encouraging me to cross over into the "sexy Twilight zone." I never would have had the guts to do this without you two._

**Chapter 1: Sparkling Glorified Icicles**

"We're going _where??" _I shrieked. A chill ran down my spine as though someone had dumped a glass of ice water down the back of my shirt.

"To your bachelorette party," Alice repeated patiently in a bored voice, as the Porsche zipped off the highway under a large green sign that read _Portland_.

"My _w-w-what??_" I stammered, trying very, very hard not to hyperventilate, pee my pants, faint, or engage in any other embarrassing involuntary bodily reactions. Alice gave me a knowing _wink-wink-nod-nod_.

"You know—your 'hen's party'…your 'girls' night out'…your 'last night of freedom before tying the knot.'"

"I don't get it," I said faintly, feeling sick. Alice looked mildly surprised.

"I knew Charlie kept you sheltered, but I would have thought that growing up going to Phoenix public schools, you at least would have _heard_ of these things…" she trailed off her musings, then shrugged. "Fine then. I'll explain. A bachelorette party is a pre-wedding tradition in which a bride joins her girlfriends in an evening of risqué games, drinking, flirting, debauchery, and candid talk about sex, as she enjoys her last night of bar-hopping. The roots of the tradition began in fifth century Sparta, when…"

"I know what a bachelorette party _is_," I sputtered angrily. "I just can't believe that you decided to throw me one without even having the courtesy to_ tell _me about it!"

"Oh." Alice bristled defensively. "Well, I _did _mention that I was taking you out for special 'human experience,' didn't I?"

"You _told_ me that we were going to the Cheesecake Factory," I said through gritted teeth.

Alice ducked her head and glanced over at me, her porcelain face apologetic. "Well, that's not entirely a lie. I _ordered_ something for you from the Cheesecake Factory. It will be waiting for us when we get there."

The feeling going through the pit of my stomach wasn't _fear,_ exactly. I'd faced far scarier things in my life, such as James, the Volturi, and my dad's cooking. No, this feeling was more like…well…_disappointment. _It was like finishing exams at the end of the school year, mentally prepared for graduation, only to discover that I was tardy for Woodshop one too many times, and that my grade was still an incomplete.

I'd agreed to my fair share of idiotic "human experiences" out of a desire to please Alice (namely my ridiculous junior prom, my disastrous eighteenth birthday party, and the upcoming spectacle-to-be known as my _wedding). _Knowing that the big ones were out of the way, I'd mentally checked out of humanity. I was more surprised than pleased to find out that there was yet one more stupid social situation I'd have to fumble my way through before crossing over into eternity with Edward.

"So where is this insanity taking place?" I asked, wincing with dread.

"I reserved us a room in a nice hotel. We'll be walking distance from some downtown bars and clubs, so the location is perfect."

"Bars? _Clubs??" _My second word ended in a high-pitched squeak. I was aghast. I tried to imagine Alice (who was so stunning in appearance that she was stared at wherever she went) and myself (the poster child for _unremarkable_) walking into a bar together, and every scenario that came to mind involved her getting hit on by creepy guys while I sat in the corner feeling useless. Not my idea of a great time. I tried to come up with an excuse. "Alice, I'm only eighteen. They won't let me in." She waved her dainty hand dismissively.

"Relax. I made us fake IDs." Her red lips curled into a self-satisfied grin.

I glared at her. "My father is a _cop,_ Alice. I can't go illegally sneaking into bars using a fake ID."

"You didn't have a problem with sneaking into a _casino_ using a fake ID last year," she countered.

"I didn't exactly have much of a choice in that situation. I was inconveniently stuck in a wheelchair, hundreds of miles from home, completely at your mercy."

"And tonight, you are _conveniently _stuck in a car, a hundred miles from home, completely at my mercy." Tears of anger began to well in my eyes.

"You can't make me go," I insisted, hoping I sounded less helpless than I felt.

Alice rolled her irresistible eyes and ran her tiny hand through her inky black hair. "Is that so? How do you plan to stop me?"

"I'll call Edward," I said firmly, remembering how he had held her back when she was threatening me about my birthday party, that fateful day so long ago. "He'll find a way to heroically save me from this torment."

Alice laughed. "I'm looking into the future right now and I can see that that plan is futile."

I huffed and decided that I needed to up my ante. "Fine then! I'll call my dad and have you arrested for forgery _and _reckless driving," Alice grumbled, and I smiled triumphantly. Charlie was her Achilles heel.

"Nuts. That _will _work." She scowled. "Fine then. Have it your way. No fake ID's. Go figure. I'm over a hundred years old and I'm still too young to drink."

I frowned. "Vampires can't get drunk anyways."

"Of course we can't. But that's not the point—it's the principle of the thing."

My mind raced, as I tried to think of a way to escape. Alice gave me a severe look.

"Pulling the fire alarm won't work," she said quickly, seeing the results of my plans even as they were forming. "Neither will calling 911!" She glared at me sharply. "Oh no. Don't you _dare_ even think about burning down the hotel! Edward will be pretty pissed if he finds himself alone at the alter because you're in prison for arson."

_Double nuts, _I thought.

Alice let out a resigned, soprano, musical sigh. "I guess I'll have to go with plan 'B' and hit up the college bars instead. Everyone will look pretty lame with big M's drawn on the backs of our hands, but at least we'll still get to dance and enjoy the music." My heart began to thud erratically.

"Everyone?" I said, surprised. "Who all did you invite?"

"Just your closest girlfriends," Alice said, her long-lashed eyes widening innocently.

"I have close girlfriends besides you?"

Alice banged her head against the black steering wheel. "Humor me Bella. I put a lot of time, effort, and thought into this. I want it to be one of the most memorable nights of your life."

"If by memorable, you mean totally, completely, and positively humiliating," I said under my breath, staring out the window. Alice shot me a sharp look.

"This is a traditional rite of passage. Planning this night is one of the most important tasks of a maid of honor, according to _101 Party Tips for__ Bored Bridesmaids__. _You need to remember that Edward wants you to cherish every remaining milestone of your fleeting human life. Unlike Rosalie, you're only getting married once, so it's now or never."

"Never is fine with me," I insisted. Alice chuckled, patting my knee with her hand.

"You'll have a blast. Trust me."

"Okay," I relented. "The party I'll do. But do we really have to go to…" I winced as I said the word, "_bars?_"

"Of course you have to go to bars," Alice said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Since you're never going to turn twenty-one, and once you're a vampire you can't get drunk, we've got to cover the twenty-first-birthday rite of passage before the wedding as well. This kills two birds with one stone."

"I don't think Edward would approve," I said, grasping for a way out of this one. I was horrified to think of what Edward's reaction would be when he found out that his virginal fiancée had been carousing at the local meat markets. Why would I _go _to a place like that? Humans weren't even my type. Drunk, sweaty, horny humans, looking for one night stands were _definitely _not my type.

"It was actually Edward's idea," Alice laughed.

I gasped in surprise, my mind reeling. _"What?"_

"Three weeks left as a human. He doesn't want you to miss a thing."

We pulled up to one of the most posh buildings I'd ever seen in my entire life. Its exterior appeared to be molded out of some sort of sandstone and was carved into intricate designs, pillars, and terraces. Carefully placed track lights highlighted the more elaborate sculptures. An arched black awning hung over the main entrance, with the words _The Governor Hotel _splayed across it in gold. A pair of uniformed bellhops waited by the door with brass carts.

"Alice," I said anxiously. "I didn't pack an overnight bag." I glanced down at my comfortable corduroys and faded pink and brown top. "Not that I'm an expert on what's appropriate to wear on a girl's night out, but I'm almost certain that I'm underdressed. And I have no toothbrush. So maybe be should just turn around and go back to Forks." She just laughed merrily.

"Nonsense." She raised a perfect, little black eyebrow at me. "I packed everything you could possibly need for tonight." She parked the car in front of the entrance and stepped out.

"Where?" I asked, confused, glancing over my shoulder. There was nothing in the nearly non-existent storage space behind the two seats. Alice looked at me as if I were a moron. She walked to the front of the car, popped the hood and grabbed two humongous leather duffle bags from underneath.

"Erm…" I stared, confused.

"Porsche places the engine between the rear wheels," she said, as though stating the obvious. "More power that way. Storage is in the front." She tossed the keys to the valet, and the bellhops rushed to grab her bags as she told them her room number. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched her slip them each a folded piece of green paper that I suspected contained a portrait of Benjamin Franklin. It was then that I realized that I didn't want to know just how much money Alice had spent and was planning on spending tonight. One thing was for sure: that money was not going to be the last cash that exchanged hands tonight.

We made our way across a glowing marble floor, amidst a jungle of exotic plants, Alice's fashionable high-heeled shoes going _click-click-click-click_. The high ceiling was covered in elaborate designs, and a single, beautiful overhead light fixture cast an ambient glow across the foyer that clearly said _only rich people belong here. _We approached the front desk, where two crisply uniformed gentlemen, (one tall and lanky, one short and stout) were sitting. The moment they saw Alice, they jumped to their feet.

"Ms. Cullen!" the tall one cried, in a French accent. She extended her hand, and he kissed it.

"Hello Pierre," she said, smiling warmly.

"It is _so _good to see you back. It's been what…a year…since I saw you last?" he said, in a smiling, but accusing tone.

"Ten months, two days, eight hours, to be precise" she said, grinning up at him. "The temporary move to L.A. really put a snag in our weekend habits."

"Please tell Mr. Hale that the two of you are welcome here any time…any time at all. Think of this as your second home."

"I will," Alice chimed warmly. Pierre kissed her pale hand again.

"Have the other guests arrived?" Alice asked abruptly, cutting the reunion short. The concierge's eyes lit up.

"Indeed they have!" he turned his eyes to me, appraising. "So this is the bride-to-be then?" he asked, noticing me for the first time. His eyes betrayed what his voice did not…that I was clearly not the same caliber of client that Alice was. I didn't carry myself with the same sophisticated air. Alice squeezed my arm.

"Sure is. It's her first time here, but I assure you, it won't be her last."

"It won't?" I asked, suspicious.

"Trust me," she said, pointing to her head, grinning broadly. "I _know_ things."

"Welcome, welcome," Pierre murmured, grabbing my unsuspecting hand and kissing it, his waxed mustache tickling. "Any friend of Ms. Cullen is a friend of mine. Make yourself at home."

"Er, thanks," I said awkwardly, obviously out of my element.

"Here are your keys for the night," Pierre said, handing Alice and I each a keycard. "Either card will open both of the Penthouse Parlor Suites. Checkout time is three o'clock, tomorrow afternoon. Please call me if there is anything you need...anything at all."

"Thank you," she called over her shoulder, as we made our way to the elevators. "You're too kind!"

"Why does everyone here know you?" I asked, as the elevator doors closed and the numbers rose.

"This is where Jasper and I come to have sex," she replied. "We book a penthouse suite once a month." I stared at her, taken aback. During our year and a half of friendship, we'd discussed many things about life as a vampire, but the topic of sex had never come up. I suddenly felt like a fourth grader who'd discovered her parent's condoms…burning with questions I was very curious about, but way too embarrassed to ask.

"You only have sex once a month?" I said, shocked. I'd always imagined that if I were drop-dead gorgeous, married to someone drop-dead gorgeous, never needed to sleep, and didn't have to worry about getting pregnant, we'd be going at it like Energizer bunnies on crack.

"I never said that!" Alice said quickly. She peered at me through narrowed eyes. "You know _nothing _about the physiology of vampire mating, do you?"

"Edward said that it was a lot like human sex," I said nervously. She suppressed a smile.

"Edward…well…he lies sometimes." I could think of nothing to say, and felt a plethora of blood rush to my face and hoped that it wasn't making me smell yummy. "Don't worry Bella," Alice laughed. "You'll find out the truth soon enough." The elevator _dinged_ as we reached the top floor.

We made our way to the end of the hall, where Alice swiped the keycard. The green light came on, and she lithely turned the handle and pushed me into the hotel room. I blinked, pulling my mind away from exhilarating yet squeamish topic of vampire sex. I found myself in a luxurious living room filled with squashy black leather furniture, abstract art, and walls that were painted in bold, nicely matched shades of orange, red, and yellow. For a split second, I was able to admire the breathtaking view of downtown Portland through the tall picture windows. My moment was awe was interrupted with a moment of horror, the second I realized who, _(and what)_ surrounded me.

"Surprise!" five voices called at once. I cringed.

"Apparently I missed the 'little black dress' memo," I muttered under my breath. Standing in front of me were Jessica, Lauren, Angela, Rosalie, and Esme. They were dressed to impress, each wearing a different version of the classic outfit that never goes out of style. My penny loafers looked downright dowdy compared to their strappy black shoes and pedicured toenails. The first three guests looked better than I'd ever seen them, outside of junior prom night. The latter two, however, made me stare and catch my breath.

The fact that Rosalie looked like a supermodel was of no surprise. The V neckline of her strapless-sleeveless sheath revealed a set of sculpted cleavage that would send any male in the universe baying at the moon, while her luxurious blonde hair cascaded down her back in a series of perfect spiral curls...so what? So Rosalie looked perfectly, devastatingly, undeniably breathtaking. Nothing unusual there. Esme's appearance, on the other hand, had me completely taken aback.

Esme was always beautiful to me, of course. With her caramel-colored waves and soft, feminine features, she was like something out of a mythic painting of a goddess. But she was Edward's _mom. _My future mother-in-law. Every time I'd ever encountered her, she was always dressed in the classy, modest wardrobe of a respectable homemaker. I wasn't used to thinking of her as…well…_hot._

I wasn't every day that I saw Esme with makeup on. Like any vampire, her features were perfect and she didn't really need it. But now that it was on, it made a difference. Her lips were bright red, her eyes shadowed in an iridescent light blue, and her normally light eyelashes were dark and curled, making her lovely yellow eyes stand out like lanterns on a foggy night. Her dress was fitted around the top, with stylish cap sleeves and a scooped neckline. The A-line skirt accentuated her curves and fell to her knees, flaring slightly. Her hair was stylishly straightened, piled high in the back but sweeping across her forehead, making her look like some long lost James Bond chick, straight out of the 1960's.

The fact that the vamps were all there, made sense. They were going to be my family in three weeks, so of course Alice made sure they'd come. The fact that Angela was present was a surprise, but understandable. Alice knew that I'd always considered her a good, loyal friend, and Angela would have done anything to be supportive of me. The fact that Jessica was there was odd, but considering her emotional declaration of never-ending friendship at graduation, perhaps she'd decided to bury the hatchet after all. But Lauren? _Lauren??_

Since my very first day at Forks, Lauren had made no secret of the fact that she irrevocably and undeniably hated my guts. I was quite certain that she's rather spend an evening cutting onions in a room full of rabid skunks while someone dragged their fingernails across a chalkboard to the tune of _Hey Mickey_ than spend any amount time at an occasion that involved _me _being the center of attention. She excluded me half of the time and glared at me the rest of it. Though I'd never understood exactly what it was that made her despise me, I'd come to accept that I was a misfit, so her opinion didn't really matter. Surely, Alice knew that the only emotional connection this girl had towards me was animosity. So why was she invited? Even stranger, why was she here?

"The guest of honor has arrived! Let's break out the drinks!" Lauren said.

_Ah, _I thought. _Mystery solved._

"In a minute," Esme said patiently, her ruby red lips forming a lovely smile.

"You guys look awesome," I said, feeling more Plain Jane than I ever had in my life. "And this hotel is definitely something else."

"What do you think of the decorations?" Jessica asked enthusiastically. I glanced around, taking the rest of the room in, and struggled to come up with an adjective that wouldn't hurt her feelings.

"They're…er…_interesting_." I said, after a long pause. Interesting they were. Hot pink streamers twisted and strung across the ceiling in all directions, making it look like a very large, very feminine spider was trying to catch me in its trap. Covering every flat, stable surface in the room was a multi-colored bouquet of what _could_ have been balloons, had they not been phallic shaped. Where a curtain rod should have been, a long, red ribbon stretched from one end of the window to the other, and hanging from it were several pairs of panties. But that wasn't the worst of it; for adorning the walls were six posters bearing images of half-clothed, slightly sweaty men, and one poster bearing an image of a _completely _naked man. Completely naked—that is—except for the fact that a series of red and white circles—a target—covered the area where his genitals should have been.

"Do you like them?" Jessica asked, giggling.

"Um...uh…well...well…"

"Yes…?" Jessica's wide brown eyes sparkled with a childlike eagerness.

"Sure, sure," I finally said, in a very _unsure _voice. Jessica didn't pick up on the fact that I was lying through my teeth though, and she came over, swept me into a big hug, and squeezed me so tight that I squeaked.

"I'm glad!" she said. "I spent a week putting all this together for you! Nothing like throwing a party for your best friend!" She blushed furiously, biting her lip. She eyed the 'target' poster. "That particular decoration got me into a lot of trouble though," she admitted.

"How?" I asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

"Well," she said sheepishly, "I wanted to get it for this game we're going to play later on. And they didn't sell it at Spencer's."

"Go on," I said, dreading what was coming next.

"So I had to go to an adult bookstore to buy it." She ducked her head. "I was stupid and used my debit card. Well, Forks Federal Bank tracks your purchases. If they suddenly see that your card was suddenly used in a way that's…er…out of character for your usual spending habits, they put a hold on your account. It's a precaution, to prevent identity theft. They then contact you, to make sure your card wasn't stolen." She groaned. "I had to explain to my mom's _boss_ why I was in a porn shop! He did think it was really funny when I explained that it was all for your bachelorette party. Mom said that everyone was talking about it for the rest of the day."

My inner being recoiled, and I glanced around the room, looking for a hole that I could crawl into and die in. Finding none, I collapsed back in my chair, concentrating on taking air in and out, trying not to scream. Jessica's mom, who worked at Forks Federal Bank, was a notorious town gossip. Surely, everyone in town, including my _dad _must have heard of the incident by now. _Great. Just great. First, the town thinks I'm having a shotgun wedding because I got knocked up. Now they think I'm a sex freak. _

"Let's get this party started!" Alice suddenly sang. She pulled a tiny remote control, the size of a stick of gum, out of some hidden pocket in her dress and hit _play. _I rolled my eyes and shook my head, as I heard the song _Let's Get This Party Started _by Pink start playing from some unseen high-quality surround sound system. I realized, to my chagrin, that Alice must have "seen" how each and every minute of the evening would go and thought that it would be hilarious to develop an appropriate play list.

The sprite-like vampire danced over to a table by the window, where a bottle of champagne bubbled in a bottle of ice, next to a stack of glass dessert plates and a pile of silver forks. "It's time to cut the cake and make the toasts." At the word 'cake,' Angela turned bright red, and Lauren smirked. I had the feeling that they were in on a secret that I wouldn't like.

I approached the table and groaned at what I saw. The pure white cake was…_penis_ shaped. A three-dimensional work of art, crafted to look unmistakably like a pair of testicles and a long, thick erection lay before me. The thing was sprinkled in a layer of iridescent large-grain sugar, which, in the ambient halogen lights, threw little rainbows into the air.

"It…_sparkles_," I said lamely.

"They do that sometimes," Rosalie chuckled, giving me an impish look.

"Since when?" Lauren said in a perplexed-yet-annoyed voice, missing out on the inside joke.

"I'll tell you when you're older," Rosalie said to Lauren with a patronizing wink. Lauren frowned, and I shuddered, wondering what Lauren would think if she knew the real meaning behind Rosalie's comment. Not a pleasant thought. I then found myself wondering silently what it _would_ look like to see Edward's…er…parts…gleaming in the sunlight. The image in my mind was…_pleasing_ to say the least. I began to indulge in the daydream, imagining my god-like husband, naked in the sun, approaching me fiercely, desire burning in his liquid amber eyes…

"Dig in!" Alice said, interrupting my fantasy by cutting into the cake and swiftly offering me the first piece. It was the head of the penis, of course. I gingerly took a bite, and gagged in surprise.

"It's…_cold_," I said, choking down the bite.

"They usually are," Rosalie said wickedly, obviously amused. "Glorified icicles, those Cullen penises." Esme shot her a warning look.

"Since WHEN?" Lauren said, again miffed that someone seemed more sexually experienced than her.

"I'll tell you when you're older," Rosalie said again, this time in a sing-song voice. Lauren scowled, royally put out, and crossed her arms, sulking. She stuck her bottom lip out and exhaled quickly, blowing her sweep-across bangs from her forehead. They promptly fell back into her eyes. I wondered how she could see.

"I special-ordered the cake from the Cheesecake Factory," Alice explained. " It has a core of ice-cream-cake, covered in a layer of cheesecake, dusted with coarse sugar. They froze it at an ultra-low temperature to assure that it'd be 'extra hard' when it arrived. They don't usually make things like these, but I worked out a _special _deal with the bakery." Rosalie, Lauren, and Jessica cracked up. Esme rolled her eyes, and Angela began to stare at the floor, fidgeting.

"Check out the whipped cream," Rosalie said mirthfully. I took a second glance and wished I hadn't. From the now-circumcised tip of the cake, a single line of the fluff trailed down, obviously representing a certain milky-white body fluid. Lauren, to Angela's horror and Jessica's delight, dipped her finger in the whipped cream and licked it.

"Mmmmm," she said happily, as the other girls tittered awkwardly.

"Careful with that stuff," Rosalie said ominously. "It's dangerous. Spoo of that sort has…_transforming_ capabilities, you know."

"Since _WHEN??_" Lauren asked, this time so angry that her acrylic nailed hands were forming fists.

"You don't mean what I _think_ you mean…do you?" I asked, a wave of understanding washing over me as I pondered the implications of the statement. Rosalie's glowing eyes narrowed and her lips curled, as she nodded once. I gasped, horrified. _Well shoot! This__ complicates things, _I thought.

"What is it?? What do you _mean_ by that?" Lauren demanded.

"I'll tell you when you're older," Rosalie said, laughing so hard she could barely breathe. Jessica, happy to see one boy-magnet blonde one-upped by another laughed so hard that she snorted…a real, genuine, pig-like snort. Everyone stared at her. She turned scarlet and joined Angela in staring at the floor.

"A toast!" Alice said, when everyone had eaten their cake (including the vamps. I wondered if they'd have to cough it up later). She nodded to Esme, who uncorked the bottle and poured the bubbly into a series of tall, narrow, thin-stemmed glasses. "To Bella and Edward. May you have a _very _long, happy, fulfilled existence together!" everyone clinked glasses, and I took a sip. I made a face and forced myself to swallow. Alcohol. I thought about my conversation with Alice in the car and realized that she must have "seen" that I wouldn't have the courage to refuse to drink when everyone else was drinking around me. I felt like a poser. "Your turn!" she said to Esme.

Esme held her glass up and looked at me tenderly. "To my long-awaited daughter-in-law," she said fondly. "Because it warms my heart to finally see my son in love." We all clinked glasses, and drank. I eyed the vamps suspiciously, wondering what would happen when the alcohol hit stomachs that were only made to digest blood. They appeared to be in no discomfort whatsoever, however.

My towering brunette friend held up her glass. "I'm so happy for you," she said, with genuine, heartfelt tenderness. "Edward and you have something special that you don't see every day. I'm glad he came back and you two were able to work everything out."

Jessica's champagne sloshed a little, as she eagerly bounced closer to me. I wondered if, with her petite frame, she was drunk already. "I'm _so so so _glad you moved to Forks!" she said. "I know we're going to keep in touch forever!" I grit my teeth. Of course she was glad I moved to Forks. If I hadn't, she wouldn't have this easy access to sparkling wine or fancy hotels. With that sip, all the glasses were empty. Esme refilled them. My cheeks felt hot, and I could feel my pulse bounding uncomfortably in my wrists, neck, and groin. On top of that, I was becoming lightheaded. My body wasn't used to alcohol, and wasn't quite reacting right, even after just one glass.

Lauren gave me an interesting smile that didn't quite meet her eyes. "To great sex," she said, arching an eyebrow, attempting to recreate the haughty and experienced expression she'd seen on Rosalie's face earlier. We drank to that. Finally, Rosalie stepped forward, her impossible beauty intimidating me. She lowered her eyes to my level and spoke very quietly.

"To my brother, whom at long, _long_ last, is finally losing his virginity," she said casually, raising her glass and cocking her head to the side evilly.

An audible gasp came from Lauren and Jessica, who stared at Rosalie in amazement. Jessica, for what was probably the first time in her life, had absolutely nothing to say. In the absence of conversation, the background music seemed suddenly very loud as the song switched.

_Like a virgin...WOO!_

_Touched for the very first time_

_Like a vir-er-er-er-gin_

_Feel your heart beat_

_Next to mine_

I looked sharply up, over to Alice, and realized that she was convulsing with laughter, the tiny remote control in her hand. I narrowed my eyes at her and she shrugged apologetically, obviously very pleased with herself. At last, Lauren spoke, in disbelieving tones.

"Rosalie, you're telling me that—Edward—_Edward Cullen—_the hottest guy on the planet…has never…_ever…_"

"I don't think he's ever even masturbated," Rosalie interrupted smugly, her smile widening. "The boy is as pure as driven snow." I slumped my shoulders and covered my eyes, shaking my head with a sinking feeling. _At least they don't know he's a hundred-and-seven-year-old virgin,_ I thought, trying to see the glass as half full, hoping that I wouldn't go into hysterics. _I wonder what they'll think of this at the bank? _Uncomfortable silence again hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity, before Esme coughed pointedly, raising her glass.

"To Edward and Bella," she said graciously, giving Rosalie a subtle look of disapproval.

"To Edward and Bella," the rest of the girls chorused. As I drank the last sip of champagne from my second glass, I felt a sensation of warmth and flushing going through me, and wondered if it was from the alcohol, or the embarrassment. How could this night possibly get any worse?


	2. Bachelorette Bride Bingo

_Author's Note__: I actually invented Borderline Inappropriate Bachelorette Bride Bingo and handcrafted it for use at a bachelorette party I threw four years ago, and have used it at every bachelorette party I've thrown at my house since. A future-sister-in-law of one of the brides told me that I should market it and make millions, but unfortunately, I have no idea how to do that and I'm too lazy to figure out how. So if anyone wants to steal the idea, by all means, feel free._

_Speaking of stealing ideas, these characters are lovingly swiped from Stephenie Meyer's Twilight Series. As if you didn't know that…_

_Thanks Marcy. Thanks Blondie. My betas are awesome._

**Chapter 2: Borderline Inappropriate Bachelorette Bride Bingo**

"It's time for the next item on our agenda!" my spiky-haired, spiky-heeled hostess announced. She set her empty champagne glass on an end table and winked at Jessica, who wiggled excitedly in jittery anticipation.

"Which is what, exactly?" I asked them apprehensively.

"Games!" chorused the diminutive duo in unison, Jessica jumping up from her seat, and Alice pressing a button on her remote control. The volume of the background music suddenly went up several decibels, and I found myself bombarded with R&B.

_Is it too late to come over and play sex games?_

_Is it too late to slide on over and play sex games?_

_Sex games, oh yeah baby, sex games…_

I vaguely recognized the suggestive _Case_ song and groaned. "Something tells me that we're not playing Cribbage, Skip-Bo, or Bingo," I mumbled.

Rosalie's stunning, full lips curved up into a malevolent smirk. "Actually Bella, we _are_ playing Bingo," she said, twirling a glimmering gold curl coyly around her little finger. "Only this is a very _special_ game of bingo. Alice and I invented and handcrafted it specifically for this event. We call it 'Borderline Inappropriate Bachelorette Bride Bingo.'" Jessica tittered, Angela bit her lip, and Lauren leaned back, obviously intrigued.

"How does it work?" I asked in an unassertive voice. Playing a sex game that Rosalie had helped invent was intimidating to say the least. One only had to look at her and Emmett to see just how physical their relationship was.

Alice rubbed her snowy white hands together gleefully. "It's played just like Bingo, except that across the top of the grid are the letters are B,R,I,D, and E. Each letter represents a sexual theme. B stands for _bedroom_, so all the terms in column B are things that you'd find in the bedroom of a newlywed couple, such as 'pillows' or 'massage oil." She flashed me an exuberant smile, which I returned with a faint one, feeling beads of nervous sweat forming on my forehead.

"That's the _tame_ category," Rosalie said archly.

_Oh no…_I thought.

"They get progressively less tame from there though," Alice interjected, her topaz eyes dancing blithely. "Just you wait! You're going to _love_ the next categories."

"I'm sure I will," I said, cringing, wishing desperately that a random comet would suddenly strike earth and end this miserable evening. "What are they?"

"'R' stands for _romance_ and_ '_I' stands for _intimate items._" She paused and looked back at her sister. Rosalie waited, hoping for me to guess what came next, but I was stumped. What could D possibly stand for? Danger? Daring? Daytime?

"'D' stands for _do or don't,"_ Rosalie continued, when she realized that I was clueless. "The activities in that column are _okay _to do in a committed relationship…but because they're kinkier, many more conservative couples choose not to try them. So it's up to each couple to decide if each of those activities are 'do' items or 'don't' items." Rosalie's eyes finally turned away from me and rested on her mother.

"What are you looking at _me _for?" Esme said defensively. Her words were sharp, but I could tell that if she could she would be blushing.

"No reason," Rosalie said quickly. Esme shot her a dark look.

I glanced at Alice nervously. "What does 'E' stands for?"

She winked. _"Erotic."_ With that word, Lauren began crossing and uncrossing her legs, which were looped over the armrest of her chair. I frowned. She was trying very hard to assert her sexiness, despite the lack of males in the room.

"Oh. _Erotic._ Of course. Why _wouldn't _we have an _erotic _column?" I grunted, as Alice's slight frame floated around the circle, handing us each a black, rectangular play card and a pile of little, white, plastic chips. At least I wasn't the only one turning bright red. Angela, who was seated between Lauren and Rosalie, looked like she was about to pass out.

"We'll play three rounds," Alice said authoritatively, as though she'd taught college courses dedicated to the topic of sex bingo. "I have a special prize for the winner of each round. I'll be the caller. Everyone put a chip in the middle spot, which is your free space." I looked down at the free space and was mortified to see that my photograph was in the dead center. Alice had Photoshopped one of my senior pictures so that it appeared that I was wearing a wedding dress and veil. Annoyed, I covered my face with a chip promptly, so I didn't have to look at it. The room became very quiet as everyone focused on their cards. Alice sifted through a pile of tiny little squares, each of which had a letter and a word on it.

"Are you girls ready?" she asked, snickering slightly.

"Yes!" replied everyone but me, some more enthusiastic than others.

"Let's begin!" She sifted through her pile and drew the first square. "'B'…_satin sheets_." My already hot face blazed as I imagined myself tangled up with Edward, our naked bodies pressing against each other as the smooth material slid around us. I felt myself aroused at the very thought, and realized, to my embarrassment, that the vamps probably could hear the change in my heartbeat and guess what was happening to me. Rosalie was staring at me, shaking with laughter, as she watched me struggle with my raging hormones. When I made eye contact with her, she looked away, pressing her lips together, trying hard to suppress her smile.

"'I'…_cologne_." I placed a chip and let out a short laugh at the irony—like any Cullen would ever need to wear cologne. Lauren was looking put out that she hadn't gotten to place any chips yet, and Angela already had three in a row.

"'D'…_chocolate syrup_." Giggles erupted from everyone, including me. Not only did _Chocolate-covered-vampire_ sounded like a good name for a mixed drink, but an image of the _Magic Shell_ stuff my mom used to dump on ice cream—the kind of chocolate that hardened upon contact with cold stuff—came to mind. I wondered if vamp skin was cold enough to harden it. I mentally added it to my list of things to try on my honeymoon, and then smacked myself for having my mind in the gutter.

"'R'_…fireplace_." An audible _ooohhhh_ went up from everyone around me.

"'B'…_sleeping together_." I heard Lauren squeal in delight as she placed her first chip. I glanced down at my board, which still only had the two spots filled. It was okay with me though: knowing Alice's shopping abilities, I guessed that the prize for the game wasn't anything I'd really want.

"'R'…_foreplay_."

"D_…digital camera_." I cringed. I'd have to let Edward know that that one was definitely a 'don't.' Not that I frequented websites like Facebook or MySpace (mostly due to my lack of friends and awful internet connection), but I'd heard horror stories about people who were "tagged" in embarrassing photos that got sent to everyone they knew. I suddenly began to panic, and wondered if anyone had brought a digital camera to the party. I desperately hoped not.

"'D'_…mile-high club_. 'E'…_penetration_."

"Bingo." Esme said slowly, in a low, abashed voice.

"Congratulations, _Mom_," Alice said loudly, with a grin. "You get the first prize." She handed her mother a pink and fuchsia striped bag with hot pink tissue paper peeping out of the top, obviously from _Victoria's Secret_. I started laughing to myself. A month ago, _Victoria's secret _was the fact that she was building an army of freshmen vampires, in hopes of offing me. I never would have connected the name with undergarments. Esme gingerly opened the bag. The girls oohed and aahed, as she pulled out a white, see-through, lace nightgown.

"Wow," said Jessica. "It looks like it should fit you perfectly. What an amazing coincidence." I had to cover my mouth as I snickered. Of course it would fit. Alice probably knew the moment she started planning this fiasco who would win what, and what sizes to buy for everything.

"Thanks Alice," Esme said in gracious and even voice, though her face betrayed her chagrin. "Carlisle will love this." I wriggled uncomfortably in my chair. The idea of Carlisle and Esme having sex was like imagining my parents having sex—weird. Sure…they were frozen in their twenties, looking forever gorgeous, but they were still, well…_parents. _Unable to meet her eyes, I examined the words in my completely empty E column and wished that I hadn't. _Nipples. Erection. Sex. Wetness. Horny._

"Everyone clear your board! We're starting a new, fresh game. Are you ready?"

"Ready!"

"'R'…_mood music_. 'R'_…hot tub_. 'R'_…roses_." I glanced over and saw that Rosalie's 'R'column was starting to fill up. My card was still empty, except for the free space. "'D'_…hickies_." I laughed out loud, wondering if it was possible to leave a hickie on a vampire. I doubted it, but I vowed to try next time I was with Edward. The idea of _me_ biting _his _neck entertained me for some reason. Alice continued.

"'D'_…dildos_." I winced, realizing that I didn't actually know what a dildo was. I thought about asking, but realized that I'd feel even stupider than I already felt, and vowed to Google the term later.

"'D'…_spanking_. 'I'…_banana hammock_." I felt a wave of nausea wash over me at the term "banana." Mentioning "banana" in the same sentence as the word "sex" brought back some very bad memories of Coach Clapp's sex ed class.

Jessica was beside herself with giggles. "Do you guys remember what happened last year with Mike's banana?" She was laughing so hard I thought she would turn blue. Angela and Lauren promptly cracked up. Alice looked suddenly very, very uncomfortable.

"Er…right. Moving along. "I"_…butt-floss._"

"W-WHAT??" I stammered, not recognizing the term, but thinking that the activity 'butt-floss' sounded like a definite 'don't.'

Rosalie gave me a withering look. "'Butt-floss' is just another name for thong underwear."

"I knew _that,_" Lauren said quickly. Rosalie just rolled her eyes at the other blonde, her expression filled with distain. Lauren looked taken aback for a moment. Her expression quickly changed to one of determination however, and I got the distinct idea that she'd do _anything _to gain acceptance with Rosalie.

Alice continued. "'I'…_push up bra_. 'B'…_pillow case_. 'E'..._boobs_. 'B'…_blankets._ 'B'…_wedding night_."

"Bingo," Angela said meekly.

"What was that?" Alice called, placing her hand to her ear and glancing around. "I couldn't HEAR you!"

"BINGO!" Angela burst out, in a surprisingly loud voice. We all stared at her, and she flushed furiously. Apparently I wasn't the only one being affected by the champagne. The rest of the girls laughed, then applauded. Alice leapt over to her and handed her a small box, wrapped in silver paper. Angela, looking like she wanted to run off and hide somewhere, squeamishly opened the box and pulled out a small bottle of K-Y Sensual Silk Personal Lubricant. From the look on her face, I could tell that she wasn't quite sure what it was for. She turned the tube over and read the back. "Directions: Apply desired amount of lubricant to intimate area. To enhance pleasure, apply to the inside and outside of the condom surface. Compatible with latex condoms. Do not use if tamper evident safety seal is broken or missing. See expiration date on bottom. Warnings: If irritation or discomfort occurs, discontinue use and consult a doctor. This product is not a contraceptive and does not contain spermicide." Her previously red face was now turning an unhealthy shade of purple, and I wondered if she was breathing.

Rosalie was eying the bottle with an ambivalent look. "That kind is pretty good...it doesn't really gum up the way the normal K-Y does. However, in my opinion, the warming gel really is the only way to go." Lauren opened her mouth halfway, as if to say something, then promptly shut it.

"One last round!" Alice called. She cleared her throat and stared at me with a face brimming with eagerness, raising her eyebrows at me three times, her honey-colored eyes glowing with unreasonable giddiness. I winced, feeling the oncoming onslaught of something unpleasant.

"'B'_…sex_. 'R'…_sex_. 'I'…_sex_. 'D'…_sex._ 'E'…_sex_." I rolled my eyes, realizing that the game was rigged.

"Bingo," I sighed.

"What was that?" the rest of the girls called to me. Even Angela and Esme seemed to have gotten over their embarrassment, now that I had retaken the spotlight.

"BINGO!" I yelled, irritated. Alice shoved a large package at me, which was wrapped in bright yellow paper, and tied with a hot pink bow.

"Open it!" Jessica urged, her eyes protruding slightly from her too-small head. _"Bride, bride, bride, bride bride!"_ The rest of the girls joined in with the chant.

"_Bride! Bride! Bride! Bride! Bride!"_ Gingerly, I slid the ribbon off, and took the paper off slowly, careful not to tear it.

"It's a box," I deadpanned, wishing it would go away. The girls rolled their eyes.

"Don't be a moron Bella. Sheesh! Open it already," Lauren exhaled, blowing at her bangs. Defeated, I pulled the lid off, tore through several sheets of tissue paper, and pulled out an object I didn't recognize. It was roughly cylindrical and made out of translucent red plastic, one inch thick and twelve inches long. One end was rounded and tapered, while the other had a tiny "on-off" switch on it. Unable to stop myself, I flicked the switch. It vibrated in my hand, lighting up like a pulsing siren.

"_That, _my friend," said Alice, in a matter-of-fact voice, "Is a dildo—and a good one too. They call that particular model 'the Rabbit.' It stimulates both the clitoris and the g-spot." I faintheartedly dropped the object. It clattered on the coffee table, and buzzed as the vibrating motion spun it around. I was beside myself with disbelief. Until this moment, the only vibrating Rabbit I'd been familiar with was Jake's car. I'd never be able to hear him talk about the "Red Rabbit" again without thinking about sex toys. _Fantastic._ A sudden wave of grief washed over me as I thought of Jake. Our final goodbye was so bitter and painful for both of us. Knowing that we were in love, knowing that it wasn't enough, and knowing that I couldn't…wouldn't choose him, broke not only his heart, but mine as well. _My Jacob. My sweet, sweet, stupid, rash Jacob_. A stab of anguish washed through my heart. I didn't know if I'd ever see him again.

"What's wrong Bella?" Angela asked.

"Sorry," I said. "The Rabbit reminded me of Jake, that's all." Six pairs of eyes widened in astonishment.

"Excuse me?" Alice said, taken aback. Lauren and Jessica leaned forward in amazement. I glared at them.

"He drives a 1986 Volkswagen Rabbit. The name just reminded me." Esme, Alice, and Angela looked relieved, and Jessica and Lauren looked disappointed. Rosalie, however, looked interested.

"How on earth is a car that old still running?" she asked.

"Jake's really good with cars," I said. "I don't remember all that he did to it, but I know that he re-did the engine. He's the one who got my old red Chevy to work."

"Wow," Rosalie said, genuinely impressed. "Not bad for someone with dogbreath."

"Huh?" Lauren said quizzically, impatiently furious that she was once again left out of Rosalie's world.

"Er…there was this time that Rosalie and Jake were both over at my house and Jake ate a bunch of Doritos…sorry…inside joke," I said quickly, making up a lame story on the spot. Esme covered her face and slumped her shoulders, but Lauren looked satisfied with my lie.

"Do you like it?" Alice asked ardently, pointedly changing the topic back to the dildo, which was still vibrating noisily on the coffee table.

"I'm sure Edward and I will…er…figure out something to do with it," I said as I reached out, switched it off, and set it on the floor, out of sight. _Well, at least I don't need to do a Google search on my ancient dial-up computer anymore, _I thought, trying very, very hard (but not very successfully) to look on the bright side of things. I hoped she wasn't examining my future too closely. If she were, she would have seen my plans to throw the stupid thing in the garbage before we even left Portland.

"Next game!" Jessica said suddenly, springing up from her seat. Alice stepped back and bowed, gesturing for her to take over as hostess. Jessica pulled a blindfold and an envelope from her purse.

"The next game is called…'Pin the Macho on the Man,'" she said, biting her lip to keep her grin from spreading too wide. "It's just like 'Pin the Tail on the Donkey,' except that instead of _tails,_ we have…_these_." She opened the envelope and pulled out a stack of oddly shaped pieces of paper. She spread them on the coffee table in front of us. Lauren was beside herself, trying not to laugh.

The pieces of paper were cut into brightly colored, oddly themed penises.

The most normal of them were simply cartoonish, covered with silly patterns like polka dots, plaid, or camouflage. There were others, however, that were just plain weird. One looked like a torpedo. Another looked like a cucumber. The strangest had a pair of sunny-side-up eggs where the testicles should have been and two sticks of bacon representing where the penis should have been, and I found myself flinching at the sight of the green one-eyed, fork-tongued snake that was guarding a pair of eggs. The worst one…however…was a long, thin, pointy icicle, lying between two snowballs. _The Glorified Icicle. _Of course. I shook my head incredulously. Who on earth came up with this crap?

"Here's how the game works," Jessica said, mimicking Alice's authoritative tone from earlier. "When your turn comes, we'll blindfold you and spin you around five times. You'll then, when faced in the right direction, walk towards the poster." She cocked her head in the direction of sweaty-naked-target guy responsible for the freeze on her bank account. "The object is to pin your penis as close to the center of the target as possible. We'll play two rounds. For the first round, we'll use the paper penises that came with the game. The second time, however, we'll do it with _these." _She pulled out a packet of animal balloons. She whipped one out, blew it up to a length of about ten inches and tied both ends. "The second time, you put the balloon in your _mouth_, before going up. We'll go in order of whoever had sex the most recently."

"What if you're a virgin?" Angela asked uneasily, fidgeting with the hem of her slinky black dress. I gave her a grateful smile.

"Then you go last," Jessica answered simply, shrugging.

"What if there's more than one virgin in the room?" I asked, with just as much unease. Angela's relief spread over her face.

"Whoever's gone the farthest physically with a guy goes before the other." Jessica said with a grin. Angela and I eyed each other, twin expressions of embarrassment mirrored on our faces.

"Have you…erm…you know…made it to second base?" Angela asked awkwardly. I shook my head. She took a deep breath and smiled. "Neither have I," she said.

Lauren's jaw dropped, and she looked at me first with surprise, then with scorn. "You're marrying a dude who's never even touched your boobs?" she said contemptuously, in a vicious tone. I ignored her.

"Tongue kissing?" Angela asked turning a violent shade of red. A little more embarrassed, I shook my head again.

Lauren's jaw dropped farther. "You're marrying a dude you've never even French kissed??" This time, she wasn't taunting…she was genuinely shocked.

"Edward's…very old fashioned," I said carefully.

Rosalie flashed her a supercilious smile. "Like I said earlier…pure as driven snow. He'd never even kissed a girl before Bella."

"WHAT??" Jessica, Lauren, and Angela exclaimed at once. I stared at my penny loafers.

"Well?" Lauren pressed.

"Erm…yeah. It's true," I said in a pathetic voice. "It was a first kiss for both of us." Angela looked impressed. Jessica and Lauren were thunderstruck.

"You seriously never kissed a boy when you lived in Santa Fe?" Lauren asked.

"I never kissed a boy when I lived in _Phoenix_," I corrected.

"Why?" Lauren asked, very much confused.

"I never met anyone I wanted to kiss, before Edward," I said truthfully. I grit my teeth, wishing more than I'd ever wished in my life, that I'd had more success in my attempts to seduce my soul mate into going farther down the slippery sexual slope. _I wonder if Emmett's going to give Edward this hard of a time at his bachelor party…_

"Rather than discuss Bella and Edward's sex life or lack thereof, which is really none of our business, can we please get on with the game?" Esme cut in. Her voice had an edge to it.

"Fine," Lauren relented. But for the next few minutes, she kept glancing at me curiously, as if trying to solve a puzzle.

There was considerable discussion to determine who would go first. Lauren and Rosalie had each had sex two days earlier with their respective partners, but Esme surprised everyone by confessing that she had met up with Carlisle in the hospital that very morning, and that they'd done it on top of the desk in his office. I wondered how his desk was holding up. Alice, to my amazement, hadn't done it in three weeks (she mumbled something about Jasper and hunting that I didn't quite catch), and Jessica had been celibate for over seven months. In the end, the order established was Esme, Lauren, Rosalie, Alice, Jessica, Angela, then me.

The first round actually got me laughing. The vamps aimed badly on purpose—I knew they didn't have to miss. Rosalie got the poor poster model in one eye, while Esme got him in the other. Alice's penis was on the wall, two feet off the poster. The humans were all over the place (I managed to hit him in the navel), except for Angela, who actually hit the target smack dab in the middle.

The second round was humiliating. Having a long rubber object in my mouth was unpleasant, to say the least, but the fact that I _won_ was even more humiliating. The prizes for this competition were packages of edible underwear, which Angela and I stared at blankly.

"Time for the last game of the night," Lauren said slyly, to my horror. I'd had no idea that she was involved in any way with the _planning_ of this party. A chill ran over me, and I prepared myself for something frightening. No way this could be a good thing.

Lauren cleared her throat, her bright green eyes gleaming with naughtiness. "The final game of the evening is called…'The Condom Queen,'" she said in an ominous voice. She reached into a container she'd been hiding under the coffee table, and pulled out the last thing I'd expected to see all night.

A banana.

"Please tell me that we're not going to play that awful game from sex-ed," I said weakly. "You know, the one where you have to put on and take off as many condoms as possible…"

"It's not that game," Lauren said, in an assuring voice. I took a deep breath of relief. "It's just…_similar_ to that game," she said, laughing with wicked glee. I gasped. Lauren went on and explained the game, ignoring my uncomfortable reaction.

"This game is played just like hot-potato, except for the fact that instead of a potato, we have a banana." She ripped open one of the yellow, square, foil squares that was laying on the end table, and proceeded to roll it onto the banana. "When the banana is handed to you, you must roll off the condom, then roll it back on, before passing it to the person on your right. We keep doing this until the song stops. Whoever has it in their hands at the end of the song will be eliminated, and then we'll start the song again. It will come down to just two people, eventually, and the banana will go back and forth between them until at last there is just one of us left left. That lucky woman will be the condom queen! Any questions?"

Rosalie raised her hand, eying Lauren as though she were a rather nasty housefly she wanted to flatten. "What are we supposed to do if the banana goes…how shall I say it…mmm…_soft and squishy_?" she asked.

"I wouldn't know," Lauren sneered, meeting Rosalie's eye defiantly. "I've handled dozens of bananas, and _I've_ actually never had that happen." I looked down at her hands and really hoped she washed them… often…

Rosalie regarded her coolly. "There's no need for _dozens _of bananas, my friend—at least, not if you find one really, really good one."

Lauren pursed her lips, her eyes flashing, acutely reacting to Rosalie's words as sharply as if she'd said _slut_. "Sometimes, you can get bored of just one banana. Bananas go bad."

Rosalie grinned. "Not if they're frozen."

Lauren's green eyes narrowed. "What the _hell_ is that supposed to mean?"

"I'll tell you when…"

"What Lauren was _really _trying to say was this," Alice interrupted, not wanting the catty conversation to continue any more than necessary. "That if you break a condom, you need to just grab another one from this pile." She threw a handful of square, foil packets onto the coffee table. "If you squash a banana, you have to pick a new banana from this bunch," she whipped a bright bundle of bananas out of nowhere and settled them into the next of condoms. "It's better to be gentle with the banana in the first place, though," she added. "You _do _know that it's possible to fracture a penis, if you're too rough on it, don't you?" She glanced ever-so-briefly at Lauren as she said this. I silently wondered if she'd had a vision of Lauren doing this to some poor unsuspecting male. _Ouch!_

"Really?" Angela asked, morbidly curious.

Alice nodded, serious. "It's rare, but it's been known to happen, usually from blunt trauma involving the woman-on-the-top position. Carlisle actually had a patient once who was stuck with a permanently bent penis for the rest of his life. There was nothing he could do surgically to help him." The humans sat in stunned silence, processing the terrifying news they'd just heard, while Rosalie shook with laughter. Of course she'd laugh at something like that—Emmett's penis was probably indestructible. Esme cleared her throat once again.

"Shall we get on with this and get it over with?" she asked sardonically.

"Absolutely!" Lauren said, relieved to be on to happier topics than bent "bananas." She handed me the rubber-covered fruit. "Bride first!" she sang haughtily. I reluctantly took the curved fruit from her.

"Begin!" Alice cried. She flicked her little remote control, and loudly, the song _Bananaman, _by Ghoti Hook started to play. The girls laughed uncontrollably as the condom-covered banana made its way around the circle.

The game was ten times as awful as it sounded. The condoms were lubricated, making it impossible to take each of them on and off the banana without getting my hands all gross. The second time the banana made its way around the circle, I broke the latex and had to start over with a new condom, and the third time around, I managed to squash the banana, getting the gooey puree all over my fingers. Fortunately, I was eliminated on the very first song stop, and was able to excuse myself to go wash my hands. I spent a very long time in the bathroom sitting on top of the close-lidded toilet, listening to the sound of raucous laughter through the door, wondering how an evening this bad could _possibly _have been Edward's idea. I made sure not to leave until it sounded like the game was wrapping up. When I finally worked up the fortitude to return to the living room of the suite, I found Rosalie and Lauren madly passing the banana back and forth with fierce determination and undisguised competition. Angela and Jessica were cheering Lauren on, while Esme sat with a bored look on her face, and I would wager money that she considered all this very improper. Alice was standing back, looking like she was up to no good, and had both a remote in her hand and mischief gleaming in her cat-yellow eyes.

The music stopped very abruptly, mid song, just as the banana was passing between the two girls' hands. Both gripped as hard as they could, determined to be "The Condom Queen," and yanked. The banana ended up in Rosalie's stronger hands, while the condom ended up in Lauren's, snapping back and hitting her square in the nose. The two bratty blondes glared at each other.

"It's a TIE!" Alice announced, throwing her hands in the air and dancing a happy dance. "I had a_ hunch _that it might be, so I got two prizes." She handed each girl a fruit basket containing two bunches of bananas and a package of Trojans. I started to feel like I might hyperventilate again. _It REALLY can't get any worse than THIS, can it? _

Just as I was about to find some excuse to sneak back to the bathroom so I could throw up or hide, there was a knock on the door. I froze. _Oh crap. It IS going to get worse!_

"Who is it?" I called, realizing with a deep sense of alarm, that whomever I opened the door to would see everything that was going on in the suite and think we were all a creepy bunch of nymphomaniacs. My body tensed up.

"Ice sculpture delivery man," came a deep male voice through the door.

_Great._ I thought, my shoulders slumping. _Just great._

**If you love this story, please leave a review. Reviews equal love. :D**


	3. The Ice Sculpture

_Author's Note: A huge thank you to MarcyJ, blondie AKA robin, and Warui-Usagi for acting as my beta readers for this chapter. _

_A lot of you readers all commented that when this is all said and done, you'd like me to write Edward's Bachelor Party. While I'm flattered that you'd ask, I currently have no plans to write that. I have 15 chapters planned for this story, and I'm writing fast enough that the entire story should be up by the end of the summer. After that's done, I hope to actually finish Edward in PE._

_I felt a need to give a shout out to some people who've helped inspire this story._

_The opening line of the first chapter where Bella says "We're going WHERE??" is in reference to vjgm's current story, which is a sequel to what is possibly the most popular fanfiction in existance, the masterpiece known as "Boycotts and Barflies."_

_Any mention of bananas, Mike Newton, and sex-ed is in reference to MarcyJ's "Cullenary Education: Forks Sex Ed." She is the originator of all things banana._

_The phrase "Naughty Bella" was coined by blondie AKA robin._

_I hope you all like my latest installment! Chapter four is written and just needs betaing. It should be up soon as well. I hope this chapter makes you simultaneously cringe and die laughing. _

**Chapter 3: The Ice Sculpture **

_Ice sculpture deliveryman? Alice got me an ice sculpture?_

For about two seconds, my reaction the term "ice sculpture" was fascination mixed with a strange sense of delight; the term _ice sculpture_ brought to mind feelings of elegance, sophistication, glamour, and artistic creativity. I'd always longed to see one, but up until now never had the opportunity. In Phoenix they were never very popular (probably due to the fact that transporting huge blocks of ice in 120-degree heat is an award-winning recipe for a puddle), while in Forks no one ever threw parties extravagant enough to warrant the cost of one (probably due to the fact that the fanciest venue available in Forks was the Forks High School gym). Who in Forks would actually be into them anyways? Knowing our hick-town population, the only requests would probably be for sculptures of a rainbow trout or a deer head.

However, after those two seconds of awe had run their course, a sinking suspicion came over me that behind the closed door was an elegant, sophisticated, glamorous, and artistically creative rendition of a_ penis._ My insides churned with nausea; I'd had enough penis-themed items in the last hour to last me the rest of my very, very, _very _long life.

"Bella? Aren't you going to get the door?" Alice asked, gesturing to the entrance. With a sigh, walked to the door and peeked through the fish-eye glass of the peephole, and was mildly surprised to see the distorted image of an enormous, odd-looking man waving unabashedly at me. I frowned. His shoulder-length blond hair was topped with a fedora, and he was wearing a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses that looked like they were straight out of the 1980's. But more noticeable than any of that was the fact that his cheesy mega-watt smile swelled to fill the entire image in the glass as he leaned in. Uneasily, I turned the knob, allowing the door to swing slowly and silently open on its well-oiled hinges. It opened no more than an inch, however, before the boisterous deliveryman kicked it open, and I had to jump back with a yelp to avoid getting hit. As I did so, I stumbled, landing flat on my butt, unharmed but unhappy.

"I _hate_ being a klutz!" I muttered to myself.

"Need a hand there?" The deliveryman asked, extending his gloved hand towards me. He looked like he was fighting back laughter, obviously amused by my display of impaired balance. I peered up, and from my viewpoint on the floor was able to examine the man properly for the first time. He was wearing a pair of neatly pressed black slacks and a crisp, white, button-up shirt. He was undeniably good looking, despite his bad taste in hairstyles and his worse taste in hats. His pale blue plastic nametag read

_Jean L. Taylea_

_Creative Ice: Sculpture in its Purest Form._

"No thanks Jean…I'm good," I said, scrambling to my feet, giving him a wary look. The last thing I needed was to have some random strong, handsome stranger yanking me to my feet. With my luck, he'd probably dislocate my shoulder…

"It's pronounced _John_," he corrected, adding the _zh _of a French accent to the beginning of his name.

"_John_ L. Taylea," I said slowly, rolling the name over in my mind. I scratched my head. "You don't look or sound very French."

"I'm not. In fact, I'm Irish," he said, as if that should explain everything.

"Um…er…right." I let it go, not really wanting an explanation anyways. Despite the man's strange accessories and huge torso, I found myself staring not at him, but at the elegant, sophisticated, glamorous, artistically creative, and just plain _tacky_ ice sculpture that he was rolling in on a big, brass cart.

The glistening_ thing _was almost a perfect likeness of Michelangelo's masterpiece sculpture _David._ The chiseled butt muscles were tight and perky, the abs were sculpted, and his head was turned to the side, as though contemplating something deep and intellectual. Unlike the real _David _however, the penis was, of course, long, hard, and straight. Alice had turned one of the most famous and beautiful works of European art into a porn piece. I grimaced. It felt almost blasphemous. As I looked even closer, I had to gasp. The face of the statue bore a remarkable likeness to Edward's. Angela and Jessica gawked and Lauren raised her eyebrows.

"Don't you think this is taking the 'glorified icicle' thing a little too far?" Esme asked, staring at the _literal_ glorified icicle before us with a look of disgust.

"No way!" Alice declared in a self-assured voice. "It's just what Bella's always wanted."

"Except that it's _not,_" I muttered darkly. But as I took a second glance at the frozen phallus, I found myself fantasizing once more. Could Edward look like _that_? Before my imagination had a chance to go to work, I heard a snicker from the corner and realized that Jean was staring at the half-eaten cake with an entertained expression on his face. The testicles were untouched, and there was no mistaking their shape. _Oh crap. _

Alice raised her eyebrows at me. "You may put on a self-conscious and prudish front, but I _know _that deep down you have a naughty and wild side." She winked. "I'm willing to bet a hundred dollars that I'll be able to pull Naughty Bella out by the end of the evening. Any takers?" Internally I groaned, questioning for the first time my decision to spend eternity with these women. I found myself wondering if, with their supersonic hearing, they'd be able to hear anything that Edward and I did in our bedroom together. I suspected that they might. _Maybe that's why Alice and Jasper come here…to get real privacy…_

Rosalie shook her lovely head, her shining hair flowing with the movement like she was on a Pantene commercial. "Sorry Alice. I've learned my lesson. I know better than to bet against you." Jean immediately turned his attention from the cake to Rosalie, his eyes trailing up and down her longs legs appreciatively. I wanted to slap him for not even making an attempt to hide his testosterone-charged desire for her. Rosalie, however, didn't seem to mind the attention one bit…in fact, she seemed to be reveling in it.

"Naughty Bella?" I said, scowling at Alice. "This is _me _you're talking about. My typical Friday night consists of doing laundry." She just laughed lightly.

"You'd better get used to the fact that you're eventually going to loosen up and enjoy the whorish side of yourself sometime tonight. And since it's going to happen eventually, you might as well go ahead and start enjoying it now. Stop pretending to be squeamish and embrace your inner 'icy-penis-lover.'"

"My sentiments exactly," Rosalie said, with an affirmative nod.

"Mine too!" Lauren quipped, as if fighting to have something to say. "I love erotic ice sculptures." Thinking that she'd finally gotten Rosalie's "ice" jokes, she winked at the golden-haired vamp. Rosalie ignored her with a very subtle eye movement that threatened to turn into an eye roll.

"Except that this isn't just an ice sculpture," Alice said in a hushed voice.

"It's not?" Angela asked stupidly.

"No! It's a _luge,_" Alice said declared dramatically. The room went silent as we tried to figure out what the heck she was talking about. The only luges I was familiar with were the bobsled like things from the Olympics.

"Luge?" Lauren asked, narrowing her green eyes into barely-there slits. She's obviously had no idea what a luge was either.

"I'll show you," Jean, the annoyingly familiar not-French deliveryman said, his wandering eyes now creepily fixated on Rosalie's half-exposed breasts. _Where have I met him before? _He reached behind the black curtain that covered the contents of the cart below the sculpture and pulled out a bottle of _Baileys Irish Cream_ and a shot glass. He held the bottle up. Lauren was eyeing his broad shoulders admiringly. He seemed oblivious to her.

"This, my lovely ladies, is one of the finest Irish Creams in the world. As an Irishman, I can tell you that I've never tasted anything finer. For those of you who don't know, Irish cream is made by blending rich cream with real Irish whiskey. Baileys was the first to perfect the emulsification process, and has been selling Irish Cream since 1974, and to this day, 4.3 percent of Ireland's milk goes into the production of this fine concoction." I rolled my eyes at the pointlessness of it all. Who knew that a rude ice sculpture came with a Discovery channel special on the history of alcohol?

"What does Irish cream have to do with the statue?" Esme asked in a bored voice, echoing my thoughts. Her patience was long past worn thin, and her motherly chagrin was showing through.

Jean chuckled, and the déjà vu intensified. I knew that laugh… "All in good time…all in good time." He reached beneath the cart and pulled out yet another elaborate looking bottle. It was black, with a wide bottom and thin neck, with lines that swirled diagonally from the bottom to the top. "This wonderful white stuff is _Godiva's White Chocolate Liquor._ The Godiva chocolate company originally began eighty-two years ago, in Belgium, earning an excellent reputation for making unique, hand-crafted, elegant chocolates. In recent years, they began producing _this_._"_ He held up the bottle, opened the top, and poured a small shot glass of the thick, creamy, white liquid. "It is heaven in your mouth, a taste that is both sweet and satisfying."

"And what does Godiva liquor have to do with the statue?" Esme said, this time crossing her arms and glaring at Jean, whom she seemed to know.

"I'll demonstrate that for you right now!" He glanced around the room, sizing up each guest one by one. "I need a volunteer." Esme, Angela, and I shrank back, while Rosalie, Lauren and Jessica inched forward. "You there…with the blonde hair," he said, pointing. "Come on forward." Lauren started to strut forward, eyeing him flirtatiously. "No, no…not you," he said in an annoyed voice, waving his hand dismissively. "I meant her," he pointed at Rosalie with an earnest grin, "the _pretty _one." Lauren looked as though someone had just slapped her. Her lips formed a little "o", and for the first time that evening, _her_ face turned scarlet. Rosalie shot Lauren a smug look and sashayed forward. Lauren, shell-shocked, plopped back down on her chair. Jean cleared his throat, taking Rosalie's hand. Apparently the Discovery channel was still on, as Jean continued his dissertation. "The history of ice carving dates back many centuries and its roots can be found in China. In Europe, they were used as early as the 17th and 18th centuries ice sculptures, primarily to keep perishable foods and drinks preserved and to present them in a flamboyant manner. In the last century, as ice carvings have become more popular at fancy parties and events, many upscale venues began to use them not just as decoration, but as a means to serve alcohol as well." He gestured to the turned-on looking artwork with a smile. "The luge acts not only as a sculpture, but as a drinking fountain as well…it's a means to cool your shot before you drink it."

He poured a shot of _Godiva _into the tiny glass. "The person who drinks from the fountain positions themselves beneath the place where the liquor comes out." He gently pushed Rosalie's head down, and she lowered it beneath the sculptures private parts. "I pour the Irish cream into the statue," he paused and dumped the shot into _David's _low back. "I wait for it to flow down," I could see the cream making its way through the statue's pelvis. "And the next thing you know, _voila!_" The milky white fluid traveled its way through the icy penis and spurted out, right into Rosalie's mouth, which was hovering just at the tip of the statue's frozen penis. She didn't spill a drop. Casually she closed her mouth, smiled, licked her lips, and stood up. She bowed her head at Jean, winked seductively at him and waltzed back over to her armchair, where she took a seat.

"Thanks for the demonstration, Jean," Alice said, nonchalantly handing him what appeared to be a thick wad of cash. "Does anyone have any questions?" Angela raised her hand. "Yes?" Alice asked.

"What if I feel like I've already had too much to drink?" she asked in a small voice.

Lauren gave her twisted smile. "Then you're a freakin' lightweight and need to drink more to build up your tolerance," she scoffed. Angela ducked her head in embarrassment, and I was overtaken with a sudden desire to throw Lauren out the penthouse window.

"I think I'm going to throw up if I drink any more," Esme muttered, and I smiled, knowing that though being drunk was the least of her worries, she probably really _was_ in danger of up-chucking.

"Then you'll just have to win the game so you will have to drink the least, then!" Alice replied.

"Game?" I said dubiously. "What game?" _Not another one…_

"Limbo, of course," Alice said, as though I should have known.

"Excuse me?" I squeaked, on the verge of panic. If by _limbo,_ she meant waiting around indefinitely, I was perfectly fine with playing. I could put up with a holding pattern forever…anything to avoid more drinking and more humiliation. If, however, she was referring to the game in which each player is required to backbend low to the floor, inching beneath a gradually lowered pole, I was most certainly _not _perfectly fine with playing. Limbo was one of the few things that dredged up traumatic childhood memories. I'd played limbo once in Phoenix, in fifth grade, at a roller skating rink. A girl in my elementary school class had thrown a birthday party and invited everyone in our "block" (we had all the same classes with the same thirty students back then). The game had not gone well for me. Unable to coordinate bending back _and _rolling forward, I'd simultaneously bonked my head on the bar and fallen on my butt. Not only had I ended up with a concussion, but the bruises took over a month to heal. Sitting down every day in class had been a _literal _pain in the arse.

"I _said_…WE'RE PLAYING LIMBO!" Alice cried as she flicked her thumb at her remote control. The Jamaican Steel drums began to play as the familiar _Chubby Checker _lyrics met my ear, and I looked longingly at the door to the hallway. Jean stood right in front of it, unfortunately, with a huge smile on his face. I looked desperately for a way around him, but his bouncer-like physique blocked the entrance entirely.

_Every limbo boy and girl _

_All around the limbo world _

_Gonna do the limbo rock _

_All around the limbo clock _

_Jack be limbo, Jack be quick _

_Jack go unda limbo stick _

_All around the limbo clock _

_Hey, let's do the limbo rock_

"Here's how we play," Alice said, turning the music down, when the first verse was over. "We line up in order of age." I snickered. Little would the humans suspect just _how _old some of the guests were. "Whoever the two youngest are will hold the bar to start. Going from oldest to youngest, you'll limbo under the bar. Once under, you'll take a spot as the holder, and whomever you replace will go to the end of the line. If you fall, you have to take a shot from the luge, and you're eliminated from the game. However, it behooves you to stay in the game as long as possible, for once out, every time someone else is eliminated, you have to drink another shot. Whoever is left at the end doesn't have to take a shot at all." She motioned for us to arrange ourselves in line. Alice and Lauren arranged themselves after me, being the next in age after my September birthday.

"I think the shorter players had an unfair advantage," Angela said unhappily, taking one end of the bar that Alice had produced from its hiding place under the couch.

"Yeah, well, we have to go through life unable to reach things on high shelves, so this kinda makes up for it," Jessica replied, taking the other end. I coughed to cover up my laughter. Sure there was a disadvantage to this game if you were too tall, but it was nothing compared to the disadvantage if you were _human_. Playing coordination games against vampires was simply unfair.

"Begin!" Alice said, taking her place. She turned the music up at Esme made her way under the bar. The line went through four times before Angela finally lost her balance and fell back onto the floor.

"We have our first luger!" Jean cried, clapping his pale, oversized hands. I jumped at the sound of his voice. He's been silently watching us, (or, rather, Rosalie) for so long that I'd almost forgotten that he was there. "Luge, luge, luge, luge!"

"Luge, luge, luge, luge!" The rest of us chanted, much to Angela's mortification. Turning white as a sheet, she made her way over to the statue of David and stooped down, touching her lips to the sculpture's gleaming genital tip. Jean poured the first shot down. It squirted into Angela's mouth. She promptly gagged and spit it out into the huge bowl of ice chips that the sculpture was sitting in.

"You're supposed to swallow, not spit," Lauren said, in a tone that sounded like she was trying very hard to sound experienced. "Waste not."

_Want NOT,_ I added silently in my head. I really did not WANT to do this.

"Let's do another one and do it _right,_" Jean said in a jovial voice, clapping my poor friend on the back. Angela reluctantly lowered herself down again, placed her lips on the icicle-like projection, and this time swallowed the shot that made its way into her mouth. The rest of the party cheered.

"On with the game!" Alice said.

One by one the members of the party were eliminated, as the bar went progressively lower. Alice, then Rosalie, to my surprise were eliminated before me. I guessed that they were trying to appear as human as possible. When Rosalie got out, it looked believable, considering the fact that she was five-foot-nine and the bar was lowered to about four and a half feet. When Alice was eliminated, however, I had to roll my eyes, since the bar was at the level of her collarbone. Her sudden collapse backwards looked very rehearsed. Esme, on the other hand, looked determined to stay in the game as long as possible. She actually looked physically nauseated…an expression you don't see often on a vampire's face. I guessed that the cake and champagne weren't sitting well in her hundred-and-thirteen-year-old stomach. Immediately after Rosalie's elimination and sexy second shot from the statue, Lauren was eliminated. I suspected that she fell on purpose as well…out of a desire to copy Rosalie as well as a desire to drink as much she could while the shots were free. I cringed. It was down to Jessica, Esme, and me.

By the time I was eliminated, Angela had already swallowed two shots _of_ _Godiva_ and two shots _of_ _Baileys_,on top of her two flutes of champagne. Her face (which had already been red, purple, and white over the course of the evening) was now turning a sickly shade of green. However, she had now gotten over her aversion to the alcohol, and was eagerly going back for more.

"Drink, drink, drink, drink drink!" The other girls cheered for her. Angela bent down, looking like an expert this time, and swallowed the thick, white liquor that made its way to her throat. She actually put her lips around the penis and sucked the residual liquor into her throat, much to everyone's surprise, before standing up, throwing her hands up in the air, and dancing around in excitement.

_She's gotta be smashed right about now, _I thought pitying my towering friend. _I wonder if she'll remember any of this in the morning. Worse…what would Ben think if he knew?_

I was eliminated next. When I felt myself lose balance under the limbo stick, I stuck my hands out behind me to catch myself, which kept me from falling on my butt. I tried to take the limbo stick, and hope that no one noticed that I'd gotten out, but Alice just steered me over to the sculpture.

"Don't you dare think you're going to get out of this!" she said in a severe voice. Wincing, I lowered myself to the level of the fifth appendage and rested my lips around the ice, waiting for the shot.

Unfortunately, being possibly the clumsiest and most gawky individual on the face of the planet, I was unable to keep my balance in the squatted position. I fell to my left, and to my utter horror and dismay, the penis broke off of the statue. I landed on my hip with the huge, long, phallic chunk of ice between my lips. The room went silent and Alice promptly shut off the music.

"Ouch," said Jean quietly, adjusting his pants uncomfortably. "Poor guy. That looks unpleasant."

"I think this takes the whole 'fractured penis' concept to a whole new level," Jessica deadpanned in an awkward voice. The room giggled nervously as I quickly pulled the penis from my mouth and set it next to the statue. Jessica looked disappointed that the game had ended before her turn, while Esme, on the other hand looked very, very relieved.

"It's going to be fine," Rosalie reassured everyone, picking the thick icicle back up. She winked at me. "You aren't the first person who's been so rough on their partner's icicle that they actually broke it off." Jean began shifting his weight back and forth, looking very uncomfortable. I was surprised that he wasn't turning red.

"I'm _not??_" I asked, eyes widening. I was lightheaded and dizzy from the alcohol, and was feeling more and more like an idiot every second. But the words she was saying felt like they had some secret vampire meaning.

"No, you're not," Rosalie laughed. "My friend Tanya broke the frozen dick off of her 'statue' a couple of years ago." I gulped. I suddenly realized that, as a newborn, I'd be ten times as strong as Edward, and probably a heck of a lot more animalistic. If I couldn't control my new strength, who knew what I would be capable of?

"Alice," I said, looking desperately at my tiny dark-haired maid of honor. "I'm not going to be…er…breaking any more ice in the future, am I?" Alice bit her lip.

"There's a possibility," she admitted. My heart rate skyrocketed and I suddenly felt as sick as Angela looked. The idea that I could _break_ Edward (who'd always considered me the breakable one) was way too overwhelming on a night as stressful as this one.

"So you have these luges at a lot of your parties then?" Lauren asked Rosalie, trying to understand the inside joke, and obviously wishing that she'd been to whatever party this Tanya person had attended before.

Rosalie ignored her completely, focusing her attention on me. "The good thing about ice penises, however, is that they're reattachable." I gawked at her, then remembered how the pieces of Riley's disassembled body had tried to crawl back together during the werewolf-vampire battle just a few weeks earlier. I also remembered the screams he'd made as the pieces had been torn from him… and any relief I'd felt vanished. _No. Oh GOD no._

"Oh! You mean that you could get the broken part wet, put it back on and stick the whole sculpture back in the freezer, don't you," Lauren said, with a look of understanding.

"Not exactly," Rosalie said, looking at Lauren like she thought she was a moron.

"What _is _it then?"

"I'll tell you when…"

"What this bodacious babe was _really_ trying to say is this," Jean interrupted. "That as long as you handle your… _glorified icicles_ with care, that your icy men will reward you properly. And now, for your wonderful participation in this game, I'm going to reward all of you lovely ladies with something I'm sure you don't see every day." He winked at Alice, who pressed a button on her little remote. I had no idea who sang the song, but I recognized it.

_I'm too sexy for my shirt_

_Too sexy for my shirt_

_Too sexy for my shirt_

_Too sexy…_

I stared at Jean in disbelief as he pulled off his corny sunglasses, revealing a bright pair of butterscotch-gold eyes nestled into his pale skin. As his smile spread once again into his huge lopsided grin, his dimples deepened. I slapped my forehead stupidly as I realized for the first time why the voice had sounded so dang familiar.

The ice sculpture deliveryman, who was in the process of unbuttoning his stiff white shirt, was none other than Emmett Cullen. With horror I realized that not only was my future brother-in-law about to strip, but that he was going to do it in front of his mother...


	4. A Stripper Named Emmett

_Author's Note: As always, a big thank you to MarcyJ, Warui-Usagi, and blondie AKA robin for all your beta work and corrections. It's a privilege to be able to share my work with such awesome, talented girls._

_I solemnly swear that I did not steal an early copy of Breaking Dawn, and I seriously doubt that Emmett will be stripping for us in two weeks when the book comes out (though it'd be really fun if he was). No copyright infringement is intended._

_A few people reviewed asking if luges are real. Yes, they are. I drank from one a few weeks ago at a cousin-in-law's wedding. It wasn't shaped like a naked man, however._

_I found it interesting that for every person who reviewed saying that they were totally taken aback by Jean being Emmett, there was another person who knew it was him from the moment they saw his big cheesy grin through the peephole. Congrats, all of you who picked up on the subtle clues!_

**Chapter 4: A Stripper Named Emmett**

_I'm too sexy for my love_

_Too sexy for my love_

_Love's going to leave me…_

As those lyrics played, Emmett began to dance erotically, swiveling his oversized pelvis in circles, strutting back and forth as he mouthed the words to the song. Alice began cheering him on, and made motions that encouraged the other women to do the same. Jessica was the first to eagerly join her with the cheerleader routine, followed by Lauren. My friends, who of must have remembered the hunky Emmett from school (he only graduated a year earlier than us, after all), seemed oblivious to the fact that this was my future brother-in-law bearing it all right in front of us. I prayed that this human memory would vanish quickly when I became immortal.

Encouraged by the "Go Emmett!" calls, he gracefully strode across the room, giving a small shake of his behind with every turn. As he walked away from me, he slid his thumbs under his black suspenders, allowing them to fall to his sides. Esme, who was sitting next to me, was staring at her son in shock. Her mouth fell wide open and her hands clutched the edge of the couch, her knuckles straining. I hoped she wouldn't pulverize it.

"I thought I raised him better than this," she said faintly.

_I'm too sexy for my shirt _

_Too sexy for my shirt_

_So sexy it hurts…_

With that, he whipped off his previously crisp white shirt, tossing it straight towards me. It hit both Esme and me across my face, and I had to peel it down to see him. Esme kept her half of the shirt conveniently draped over her head, and showed no sign that she was going to take it down. Rolling my eyes and grinning at the fact that she was feeling more uncomfortable about this situation than even I was, I yanked the shirt from her face and threw it on the floor.

"Thanks a _lot,_" she muttered.

"Not a problem," I laughed. I bit my lip and raised an eyebrow, a little less inhibited than usual (probably due to the three drinks that were now in my system) and for once was able to appreciate Emmett's brutish beauty. His bulging muscles rippled under his skin as he flexed his arms. Kissing each bicep once, he gave every one of the girls a wide, saucy grin. Lauren, Rosalie, and Jessica began catcalling. Esme alone (whose arms were crossed) seemed like she wished she were elsewhere. She glanced at her watch, as if she hoped that if she checked the time, it would go by faster. I gave her a sympathetic smile. Angela (who was severely drunk by now and wasn't quite herself) was yelling for him to take off more clothes, and even I found myself ogling.

_Stop that Bella! _I chastised myself. _He's going to be your brother in two weeks! He's married to Rosalie! You're going to be married to Edward! You can't get turned on by Emmett!_

And yet, my still human body was not only raging with hormones, but was filled with more liquor than I was used to (which meant any liquor at all). I felt my breathing become more rapid, and my body was starting to grow hot. I saw Rosalie give me a warning look, and realized once again, that she could hear my heartbeat and probably knew exactly what was happening to me. _Dangit! _I tried to concentrate on the fact that Emmett was so blindingly white that he made the Pillsbury Doughboy look tan, which helped calm my physical response.

_And I'm too sexy for Milan _

_Too sexy for Milan_

_New York and Japan…_

With that line of the song, Emmett unzipped his pants and wriggled out of them. I gulped nervously, not sure what lie beneath the tailored twill. Thankfully he was wearing a pair of pale blue boxer shorts that were covered with a winter print of several snowmen. I groaned inwardly. _Will the "cold" jokes never end?_

"Ooooooohhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhh!" Jessica and Lauren said in unison, as though they were watching fireworks. Alice began clapping her hands in beat with the music, and the other girls joined.

"We love snowmen and icicles! WOOOO!" Angela yelled in a slurred voice. Her claps were off beat. I shook my head, amused but chagrined. My crazy vampire family was corrupting my one true human friend. Not the way I wanted to remember the last few weeks as a human.

_And I'm too sexy for your party_

_Too sexy for your party_

_No way I'm disco dancing…_

To my surprise, Emmett, knowing no shame whatsoever, removed his boxer shorts. I gasped, and then hid my eyes. Underneath the snowfield-themed underpants was something yellow and skimpy.

"That's what a banana hammock is!" Lauren yelled, gleefully pointing. She stuck her hand into her purse and pulled out her tiny, silver, compact Canon Powershot digital camera and turned it on. _Crap! _I thought. _Knowing her, those will be all over the Internet by morning._ "Look everyone! A _BANANA_ hammock!" Just as Lauren began to zoom in on Emmett's pelvis, Rosalie lightly slapped Lauren's outstretched hand, hard enough that an audible sound could be heard over the music.

"Mine," Rosalie said with a terrifying lilt, glaring at Lauren with a psychotic, menacing look. I shifted my hand so I could see my future sister-in-law as she transformed into the deadly predator she truly was. She looked like something out of a horror movie as she let out a low hiss. "Don't look. Don't touch. Don't point-and-shoot. That's not yours. It's mine. _Understood_?"

Lauren, looking genuinely scared, proceeded to inch away from Rosalie, perching herself on the armrest of the loveseat. Stifling a smirk, I pressed my lips tightly together as Lauren suffered under Rosalie's gaze. My future sister-in-law looked very pleased with herself as she looked around to see if anyone else had taken a liking to her nearly naked mate. Emmett, on the other hand, was so busy dancing that he either hadn't noticed the exchange at all, or was making a very good show of pretending that he hadn't.

"Yeah Rosalie! You tell her!" Jessica said in a tipsy voice, pumping her fist. Rosalie gave Jessica a derisive look. Apparently, she had no patience for wannabes or ass-kissers.

Intoxicated enough to be amused by the catfight, I peeked between my fingers to get a better look at the cause of Rosalie's possessiveness. My bear of a brother-in-law-to-be's pasty-white but oh-so-muscled butt cheeks (which were so shapely that the now penis free statue of _David_ looked scrawny in comparison) were very much exposed, with the T of yellow coming out of the top of his butt-crack. His hat, wig, socks, and man-thong were the only things still left on.

"Where did he _get _that…that…_thing _he's wearing?" Esme asked, in disbelief, trying very hard to aim her eyes anywhere but at Emmett.

"I'm guessing that Alice bought it for him…or made it for him. Either way, my money is on Alice," I said to her.

"He must have lost a bet to her. It's the only explanation for why he would agree to do this. Unless this is to make it up to her for the incident in 1980…" She looked thoughtful for a second.

"Emmett bets against Alice?" I said, completely surprised. Esme laughed.

"Sometimes," she admitted.

"That's…not very smart," I said slowly. She gave a short laugh.

"Does he look very smart right now?" she asked, waving her hand in his general direction.

"Point taken."

_I'm a model you know what I mean_

_And I do my little turn on the catwalk_

_Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk _

_Yeah I do my little turn on the catwalk…_

Off came Emmett's socks. The way he took them off was so imperceptible that it was nearly invisible. My eyebrows went higher and higher, and giggling, I removed my hands from my eyes and gawked. The living, moving, marble statue before me, with his flashing teeth and gyrating hips was breathtaking. I wondered how I'd never been "dazzled" by him before. As the second _little turn on the catwalk_ played, he began giving Rosalie what was unmistakably a lap-dance. Lauren continued to shrink away, trying not to look at Emmett, for fear of being punched. Rosalie smoothly ran her hands down Emmett's alabaster back, lust flashing in her eyes. Having teased her enough to know that he had the ability to arouse her, he left her lap and strode towards me, leaving his wife breathless.

_I'm too sexy for my car _

_Too sexy for my car_

_Too sexy by far…_

He contracted his gigantic pectorals, one side at a time, to the beat of the music, thrusting his pelvis backwards and forwards, making it impossible for me _not _to stare at his hips, thighs, abs, and everything in between. He came up close to me, as if he was about to treat me to a lap dance as well, and I inched back…not afraid of his stunningly beautiful and nearly naked Colossus-like body…but of the possibility that he'd crush me with his super-human strength before I had a chance to see his brother in similar get up. Sure, Emmett looked hot right now…but bulky wasn't my type. _Edward _in a banana hammock, on the other hand…now there was something to write home about. _Wooo._

I smacked myself across the forehead for thinking kinky thoughts. Up until tonight, I'd fantasized about my first time with Edward…dreaming of the lace, the flowers, the candles, and the romance. I hadn't really thought _past _the wedding night into the more _unconventional_ options. I'd always assumed that we'd do the deed a few times on our honeymoon, but that after that, I'd have a lot of adjustments to go through as a newborn. Also, I knew so _little _about this crazy vampire sex that Alice had hinted at. The curiosity of the mere mechanics of it had been enough to fill my mind. Now that a lean, mean, ninety-nine-percent-naked Nosferatu was virtually belly dancing before me, however, a whole new world of the possibilities for the land of undead marital bliss filled my mind. _I wonder how many times Edward and I get to "try" before he bites me?_ I smacked myself again, urging Naughty Bella to get her mind out of the gutter.

_And I'm too sexy for my hat_

_Too sexy for my hat _

_What do you think about that…_

Always one to read my expression as if it were a book, Emmett leaned in close and whispered, "Edward's banana hammock is black." I covered my mouth with my hand and blushed furiously at his words. He gave me a evil grin before spinning away on his bare feet, pulling off the fedora and throwing it to Alice like a Frisbee. She caught it and hooted at him. His feminine blonde wig (which matched Rosalie's hair nicely) was cascading to his shoulders, contrasting weirdly with his unmistakably masculine physique.

_I'm a model you know what I mean_

_And I do my little turn on the catwalk_

_Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk… _

He flipped his blond hair over his shoulder flamboyantly, turning his head to make eyes at me, giving me his best fake _come-hither look_. I laughed out loud, and he frowned back with false hurt. Rosalie promptly began to wiggle her hips smoothly, in beat with the music, looking more aroused by her sometimes-husband than I'd ever seen in my life.

_Yeah I shake my little tush on the catwalk…_

Emmett pranced backwards away from me, outstretching his hands in my direction as though he was trying very hard to reach for me, but was unable to, due to a mysterious magnetic pull to Rosalie. He backed up, and as the word "tush" played, he proceeded in shaking his booty in her general direction. He pulled off the blond wig, and spun around to face her. There was nothing to get in the way of their desire for each other except for the flimsy, almost non-existent butt-floss (I congratulated myself for now knowing how to use the phrase "butt-floss" in a sentence).

_I'm too sexy for my cat _

_Too sexy for my cat_

_Poor pussy poor pussy cat_

With this, he began to actually move across the floor on all fours, looking _remarkably_ like he could have been in Andrew Lloyd Webber's production of _Cats_, had he been in costume, rather than stripped down to his skivvies. He slunk across the lush carpet and actually faked the motion of licking his paw. Jessica and Lauren were shaking so hard that I thought that they might have been having seizures. Not once did Emmett seem embarrassed or uncomfortable in front of us or his mother—I began to wonder what bet he'd lost to have been roped so completely into this charade…even more…what _did_ happen in 1980? What terrible thing could Emmett have done to Alice that would have warranted that he do _this _to make up for it?

"Esme," I asked in a low voice. "What happened between Emmett and Alice in 1980?"

"We don't talk about that," she said firmly. "Don't ever ask me about that again." I nodded, taken aback by her strong reaction that, while shutting me up immediately, only served to arouse my curiosity. I made a mental note to ask Edward about it later.

_I'm too sexy for my love _

_Too sexy for my love_

_Love's going to leave me_

Unable to stop himself, Emmett pulled Rosalie up to standing, and snaking one of his legs around the back of hers and drew her into an embrace, subtly running his long, thick, white fingers over her curvy hips, ever so slightly grabbing her rear.

_And I'm too sexy for this song…_

As the song ended, he passionately kissed Rosalie, pressing his body up against hers. He grasped the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair and she responded to it enthusiastically. My mind drifted back to Edward, wishing it was us sharing the embrace. The kiss continued long after the song had ended, and a few seconds after Lauren, Jessica, and Alice stopped cat-calling.

"Wow, that's what I call lung capacity," Lauren murmured to a giggling Jessica as the minutes ticked by. I stifled a giggle. _They don't need to breathe…_

"Hey you two!" Angela yelled in a slurred voice. "Get a room! Get a freaking room!" Her face was flushed, and the veins in her forehead looked a bit distended. Her eyes were distinctly bloodshot.

"Our key opens the room across the hall as well," Rosalie said seductively, running one finger behind Emmett's ear, toying with a dark curl. "What do you say you mosey on over and I make use of it…_Jean?_" She nimbly picked up the white shirt bearing his nametag, and not-so-discreetly tied the shirt around his waist, the arms of the shirt knotted over his right hip. It covered up his butt and obvious _banana_ like a woman's sarong. His right thigh, however, was completely exposed on the side, and the shirt didn't cover up the fact that something was bulging up front.

"Would that make you happy?" Emmett asked her earnestly, running his hands over her shoulders.

"GET A ROOM!" Angela yelled. She was now slumped in her armchair, looking like she might suddenly lose consciousness at any point in time, provided she didn't vomit.

"Get out of here and go do each other, for Pete's sake," I said in an exasperated voice, tossing the two lovebirds one of the hotel keycards. _Figures,_ I thought. _I'm the bachelorette, and Rosalie's the one running off to make out or have sex or do God knows what else with the stripper. _I immediately began to mentally beat myself up for being jealous of Rosalie. _You don't want Emmett…he's like…eight times your size,_ I reminded myself. _That'd be like a Saint Bernard and a Chihuahua hooking up. Gross. You just want to figure out what this wild vampire sex _is _so you can have it._ I was disturbed by my thoughts. Naughty Bella _was _coming out. Damn that Alice…the power of suggestion.

Emmett flashed me a grateful look as he caught the keycard with his lightning-quick reflexes.

"Thanks, Bella," he said exuberantly. "I hope you have fun, too!" He and Rosalie practically threw each other out the doorway and into the hall. We heard first our door slam loudly, followed by the muffled sound of the door to the suite opposite of us.

In the absence of Rosalie and Emmett, the room suddenly seemed very quiet. No one seemed compelled to pick up the shoes, socks, pants, wig, hat, or sunglasses that had been left behind in a trail. Alice opened her mouth as if to say something snarky, but Esme gave her a look that made her close it again. For a minute we all sat around, just imagining what was going on across the hall. One look at Esme's face and I knew she could hear exactly what was happening.

I thought back to that first fateful vampire baseball game I'd watched, and the thunderous noise their bodies made when they crashed into each other. I wondered if vampire sex sounded as stormy as vampire athletics. Alice grinned at her mother with a gleam of mischief in her eyes, and flicked the remote control. The music blared loudly enough to cover up anything that could possibly be going on in the next room. _I guess so._

_Sex is natural_

_Sex is good_

_Not everyone does it _

_But everyone should_

_Sex is natural_

_Sex is fun_

_Sex is best _

_When it's one-on-one_

"Alice," Esme said, wincing uncomfortably. "Can we…er…listen to something else? Something that's _not _a George Michael song cued to the "hot" parts?" Without missing a beat, Alice flicked the remote control again.

_I'll make love to you_

_Like you want me to_

_And I'll hold you tight_

_Baby all through the night_

_I'll make love to you_

_When you want me to_

_And I will not let go till you tell me to…_

"Alice," Esme said, this time in a more severe voice. "Something _else._" Alice sighed and switched the music to some soft jazz—elevator music.

"Prude," she muttered, kicking Emmett's snowman shorts away and crossing her arms, pouting.

"Angela? Are you okay?" I asked, suddenly noticing that my kindhearted friend was now draped over the armrest, apparently taking a nap. I walked over to her and squeezed her hand. Her eyes promptly opened.

"Huzzah! Ben! Conga lines!" she said, incoherently.

"Ange…I think you're drunk," I said in a concerned voice, feeling for her pulse. It was very slow.

"I'm not drunk!" she said, with a hiccup. "I'm a _beautiful _princess!"

"Yes…yes you are," I said, now genuinely worried. "But you're also very drunk."

"Am I still a virgin?" she asked, her eyelids fluttering. Both Jessica and Lauren snorted loudly.

"Yes Angela…you are," I said with a sigh. I desperately hoped that "Naughty Bella" wouldn't end up as sloshed as "Wild Angela."

"Good. That delivery dude was pretty hot, but too tall and burly for me to lose my virginity to. Give me a guy who's short…and _Asian._" She giggled uncontrollably, and I winced. The way Angela was talking was so incredibly _not_ Angela. I decided that I didn't like drunk Angela...it made her act out of character…almost as though I wasn't talking to _her._ I went to the sink and filled one of those little clear plastic cups with water and brought it back to her.

"Drink this," I said in a commanding voice. "It will help you sober up." Not that I was the resident expert on alcohol, but I had paid enough attention during tenth grade Anatomy and Physiology to know how to flush toxins from the bloodstream.

"I don't need to sober up!" she said in a sleepy voice. "Trust me…I feel _fine._"

"Just drink it," I urged. Angela obeyed and emptied the cup in one swig.

"More!" she said enthusiastically. I motioned to Alice, who ran to the bathroom and came back with another cup, which Angela downed.

"My stomach feels too full," Angela complained. "I think I'm going to be sick…" without another word, Esme had dashed over in a blur of movement, almost too quick to see, and with Alice's support, she helped Angela to the bathroom.

I looked around awkwardly and realized that I was alone in the room with Lauren and Jessica, who were most certainly _not_ sitting around bored. Instead, the two of them had raided the Ice Sculpture cart, and they were downing shots of _Godiva_ faster than you could say_ lush_, high-fiving each other every time the glasses emptied.

Miserably, I sank into my chair, glancing up at the clock on the wall. It was only seven-thirty. Pierre, the concierge, had said that our checkout time was three p.m. the next day. How on earth was I supposed to survive another nineteen and a half hours of this?

I vowed to myself right then and there that the moment I was a vampire, I would tear Alice's arms off…_literally _remove them from her body…and not give them back until she apologized.

"Wanna bet?" Alice called from the bathroom.

_Goddammit._

**Thank you for all your hilarious reviews! It makes my day when someone tells me I made them fall out of their chair laughing.**

**Random Twilight Trivia: Where was Bella the first time she swallowed vampire venom?**


	5. Panties, Presents, and Pinatas

_Author's Note: My apologies for how long it took me to update this. Between snorkeling in Maui, hiking in Kauai, and studying for the boards, my last month got really, really swamped. But swamped is over now! I passed my boards and got my license, so I no longer need to study twelve hours a day! Yay! So I'm returning to writing silly stories. Plan on seeing regular updates of this story from now on. I have fifteen chapters total planned._

_A big thanks to Robin AKA Blondie, and Warui-Usagi for looking this over to make sure it wasn't chock full of typos. _

_I hope that you all get a good laugh out of this chapter. I was involved with four bachelorette parties this past summer, two of which I hosted. All of the events in this story are loosely based on experiences I actually had. I swear...my real life would make a good sitcom._

**Chapter Five: Panties, Presents, and Pinatas**

I stared out the window of the penthouse, trying to distract myself from the muffled sounds echoing through the bathroom door. I shook my head. _Poor Angela. Puking with the vamps. Ugh. Definitely not an activity that's on my bucket list. _I glanced up at the clock for the fifth time in the past thirty seconds and sighed. Still seven-thirty-seven. It felt like I was in some bizarre twilight zone, where time moved excruciatingly slow.

_Go do your happy place, Bella. Remember your happy place. _I stared out the window again, but I wasn't seeing downtown Portland any longer. Instead, for the millionth time, I imagined myself on my honeymoon with Edward. In this version of it, we were in a remote cabin, nestled somewhere in the Swiss Alps, lounging on a thick rug in front of a roaring fire, while a snowstorm raged around us, locking us in. No books…no TV…no internet…no radio…no clothes. I sighed a breath of relief. _This is better. I can stay right here, very content for a very long time. _I began to fantasize.

Unfortunately, just as the daydream was getting good, the bathroom door opened again, and out burst Alice, who was supporting Angela on one arm. My tall friend no longer looked sick or very drunk, though she did look fairly embarrassed and quite worn out from the experience.

"I'm done drinking for the night," she announced, plopping down on the couch and slumping back wearily, closing her eyes. She looked very sleepy. I expected Alice to protest, but she just shrugged.

"I guess that you _have _had your fill," she said in an unconcerned voice. "Unlike these two lushes." She cocked her head at Jessica and Lauren, who were shrieking as they took pictures of themselves posing next to the ice sculpture, shot glasses in hand.

"Where's Esme?" I asked. Alice ducked her head.

"Coughing up a few substances that aren't agreeing with her stomach." I moaned and looked away. _Esme_…sweet, kind, innocent Esme, was actually _sick…_all because she was trying to help make the night special. Couldn't Alice have warned her?

"How long until Rose comes back?" I asked in a low voice. Alice's gaze unfocused for a moment as she concentrated.

"In another forty-five minutes, the bed across the hall will be destroyed, ending their tryst as the tenants of the room below call the hotel's management." Alice glanced at the clock, annoyed. "I'll be right back. I need to write Pierre a check to pay for the bed." She dashed out of the room.

"How's your stomach holding up?" I whispered to Esme. She gave me a weak smile.

"It's had better days. Makes me remember what morning sickness used to feel like when I was a human," she whispered back.

"I'm so sorry…I had no idea that any of this was going to happen tonight." She waved her hand.

"Not your fault," she muttered. "My kids on the other hand…I swear. They're going to be the death of me."

"But you're _already_ dead…"

"It's just an expression."

"HEY!!" Lauren suddenly yelled, causing Angela to wake with a start.

"What?" Jessica responded. Lauren gave her a sly glance with her very shiny, evil looking eyes.

"Let's call Mike!" She whipped out her phone and held it up gleefully.

"YES! That's a great idea!" Jessica giggled.

"But…_why?_" I wondered out loud.

"Because he's at work, which means that he's probably bored. We'll cheer him up and make his night more interesting! Whoo-hoo!" Lauren flipped her phone open and pressed one of her speed-dial numbers. She must have turned speaker-phone on, because I heard Mike's tired voice as he answered on the third ring.

"Hello?" he said cautiously. His caller ID must have warned him that it was from Lauren.

"Guess where _we _are!" she sang.

"Where?" he asked dryly. Jessica snatched the phone, tittering.

"At Bella's bachelorette party! We're celebrating her last night out with the girls!"

"Lovely," he muttered. "Um, I'm at work, so I'd better go."

"WAIT!" she screamed into the phone, causing all of us to jump. "YOU HAVE TO WISH BELLA GOOD LUCK ON HER FIRST TIME HAVING SEX!!" I stood up, preparing to leave, completely mortified. Jessica grabbed my arm, preventing my departure. There was an awkward silence from Mike's end of the phone.

"Edward hasn't gotten into her pants yet?" he blurted out, confused. I felt my shoulders hunch and I closed my eyes. _Not him too…_

"Edward is a virgin! Edward is a virgin! Edward is a virgin!" Jessica and Lauren sang in unison.

"That's surprising," Mike admitted. "But not really any of my business." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "So anyways…I'm at work so I've really gotta…"

"Alice ordered an ice cream cake shaped like a penis!" Lauren cackled. Esme excused herself and went back to the restroom. I wondered if she was going to throw up again, or, if like I had earlier, she was just looking for a place to hide.

"I'm sure it was delicious," Mike said in a voice that plainly said _someone please shoot me now._

"And we did shots from an ice sculpture of a naked Edward!" Jessica continued.

"Oh joy. Naked Edward. What could be better?" Mike said sardonically.

"And Emmett Cullen stripped down to his yellow _banana-hammock!_" Lauren finished. There was a long silence before the two of them broke into a series of hysterical giggles. Angela leaned her head back and closed her eyes once more. It wasn't clear whether she was passing out or just trying to pretend she was elsewhere.

"Oh! Look! A customer! I er…gotta go. Bye." Mike's abrupt ending of the phone call sent Jessica and Lauren into a fit of laughter so intense that both girls fell off the couch. With all of my vamps absent I felt strangely alone.

_What a lovely sunset. And a lovely skyline. What a lovely hotel room…SWISS ALPS! SWISS ALPS!! _I tried desperately to recreate the vision from earlier, but it kept getting interrupted with giggles from the floor. Seven-forty-five passed, then seven-fifty two, while Jessica and Lauren continued their garbled drunken conversation. Finally, at seven-fifty-eight, Alice returned (bringing with her a fancy cardboard cup with the Starbucks logo on the side) and Esme emerged from the restroom. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Sorry about that delay," Alice said, shoving the cup of coffee at Angela, who woke with a start. "Drink this," she whispered to the brunette. "You'll feel better." Angela obediently started sipping.

"What now?" I asked.

"It's time for your gifts!" the tiny sprite said with enthusiasm. Jessica and Lauren wooted from the floor, giving each other a fist bump. Alice helped them back onto their seats.

"Shouldn't we wait for Rose to get back?" I asked. Now that the party was started back up again, I found myself wishing that it would slow back down. Alice just shook her head.

"If my guesses are correct…and they usually are…Rose will still be another half hour or so. Since we _are _on a tight schedule, we'd better get started." She pranced over to the window, pulled a pair of scissors out of some pocket hidden in the flared black skirt of her dress, and cut down the panties that were hanging across the window on a ribbon. She tossed the line into my lap.

"These are for me?" I asked, frowning. I perused through the pairs of underwear. Most of them looked a little too big for me.

"Of course not!" Alice scoffed. "You think that I'd throw you a bachelorette party where the only presents you got were panties? Give me a break. You know how I like to buy things for you!"

"Yeah…since paying for the room, the cake, the ice sculpture, the booze bill, and the gas for the trip up here were so cheap. Not to mention the vibrator." Alice shrugged.

"I do what I can." She pointed to the panties on my lap. "Those are to determine what order you open your gifts in."

"Um…"

"On my invitation, I instructed each of our guests to bring in a _clean_, fun pair of underwear from her own home. You, as the bachelorette, have to guess which guest brought each pair. When you guess a pair correctly, you get to open that guest's gift!" She whipped several gift bags out from behind one of the couches. "Here are the presents! Go ahead! Lets get started!"

I tried not to think about the fact that each of these pairs of underwear had adorned one of the butts of those present as I held up the first pair of panties on the line.

A neon-green glittery thong. I rolled my eyes.

"Well, this is incredibly easy," I said. "Lauren."

"How did you know?" she gasped.

"Lucky guess," I muttered. Even if I hadn't seen her change dozens of times in PE (before she was excused from gym for the remainder of our senior year, due to the ruptured spleen she'd obtained when Alice rammed into her in floor hockey), the impractical _butt-floss_ practically screamed Lauren's name.

Alice shoved a glinting, green gift bag towards me. The tag read "To Bella, from Lauren." I pulled tufts of lime colored tissues from the top and gingerly examined what lay beneath.

"A book. Lovely," I said.

"Pull it out!" Lauren said. I reached in and pulled out a large, orange and white soft-covered book. In diagonal navy blue writing, in blocked letters across the front read:

**A Complete Idiot's Guide To Sex**

Blushing, I perused the pages. It started with anatomy, and moved into technique. There were even illustrations, and a section on the Kama Sutra. _Unfortunately, this volume doesn't even begin to cover basic questions like "can sex with a vampire really kill you?" and "is vampire spoo really venomous?"_ I wondered if Carlisle had any books in his library that would answer those questions. I stifled a laugh.

"Er…thanks Lauren," I said. She scooted onto the love-seat, putting her hand over mine.

"This is going to be so much more helpful for you two than I thought," she whispered loudly into my ear, enveloping me in a cloud of Bailey's breath.

"I'm sure." I cleared my throat and held up the next pair of panties.

It was a pair of lacy, pure white boy shorts…the type that you can't really wear without getting a wedgie. I frowned. The lacy, innocent, shy material screamed Angela, while the old fashioned style seemed more Esme.

"Angela?" I asked. She was looking less drunk and more perked with each sip from the Starbucks cup. I wondered what exactly Alice had ordered for her. Angela shook her head.

"Esme then," I said confidently. My future mother-in-law nodded self-consciously. She reached to the table and picked up a smallish white gift bag, which she placed in my hands. Curious as to what the doctor's wife had ordered, I pulled out the tissue paper.

"Another book. But this one's a very, very old book." I frowned, carefully opening the gilt-edged tome and staring at the yellowed pages. "A very, very old book that I can't read because it appears to be written in Sanskrit." With a shock of horror, I wondered if she'd given me the _actual _Kama Sutra.

"Arabic, actually," Esme said softly, turning the book around and opening it from what I'd thought was the back. "That's one of the first ever printed editions of _A Thousand and One Arabian Nights."_ She grinned with a far-off look, as though she was remembering something pleasant.

"Erm...right. Aladdin and Jasmine. Ali Babba. Open Sesame. Very sexy," I said, confused. Alice laughed.

"When they were translated into English, they were censored quite a bit. A lot of the original content was edited out. If you read them in ancient Arabic, they're actually very, _very _erotic."

"Carlisle's fluent in Arabic," Esme said dreamily. "For the first several years of our marriage, he'd read me a story a night, translating them into English so I could understand them. Talk about a turn on."

"But why would that do Edward and Bella any good?" Jessica blurted out. _Probably because Edward's just as fluent in Arabic as Carlisle,_ I thought with a grin. I tried to imagine an erotic book read out loud in Edward's velvety, hushed voice. _He could make millions doing books on CD. _Out loud I just said.

"That's a great sentimental gift Esme. You know how much I love books. Thank you." She winked at me.

I moved on to the next pair of panties, which were wadded up tightly and tied into a tight roll with ribbon. As I freed them from the ribbon, my jaw dropped in complete and utter shock. In the midst of all of the rest of the skivvies (all of which were sexy and stylish) lay a size twenty-six pair of white Fruit of the Loom briefs. I held them up, flabbergasted. They had to be three feet across. Bewildered, I glanced around at my guests, all of who were laughing hysterically.

"What on _earth??_" I said. Angela and Esme's butts were similar in size (the largest at about size nine or ten…Angela's in proportion to her height, Esme's curviness left over from motherhood), as were Rosalie's and Laurens (model perfect size six). Alice was probably about a size zero, while Jessica's was hard to determine, due to the fact that her weight tended to yo-yo, and tonight her skirt was A-line enough to hide her bottom. But even during her heavier times, she'd never been over a size eight. I peered suspiciously at each person's face.

"Alice," I said in an exasperated voice. She looked indignant.

"Bella…you can't be serious. Me? Buy Fruit of the Loom? Do the stores I shop at _sell _that crap?"

"Come on girls! I know that this pair of underwear does _not _belong to any of you! This isn't fair." Jessica was laughing hysterically and guiltily. I peered at her suspiciously. "Jess…there's no way you ever could have fit into these. What on _earth??"_

"The invitation just said to bring a clean fun pair of underwear _from our own homes,_" Jessica howled. "It didn't say that the undies had to be our own!" I flung the humongous pair of undies back at her, but unfortunately, since they were so huge, they only made it halfway to her before parachuting to the floor.

"Explain," I said, unamused.

"My mom went on the South Beach diet last year and lost fifty pounds. Those are her "before" panties. I thought it would be funny to see your reaction if I brought them!" She picked up the briefs and handed me a box that was wrapped in shiny reflective paper. I tore it open and found a pair of big, foam dice linked together with a red ribbon.

"For my rear-view mirror, I take it?" Jessica rolled her eyes.

"Those are sex dice, Bella." I looked closer and realized that there were no numbers on the dice. Just words on one and diagrams of body parts on the other. "One die says things like 'lick,' 'kiss,' and 'massage' on it, while the other has pictures of different body parts on it, like 'lips,' 'neck,' and 'inner thigh,'" she explained. _Not to mention 'penis,' 'breast,' and 'vagina,' _I thought, flipping the dice over. I suddenly realized that the word die had the word 'bite' as one of the options and began giggling uncontrollably. _'Bite' and 'neck' better not come up until after 'kiss' and 'breast.' _I was taken aback at the raciness of my thoughts. _Darn that Alice! Why did she have to encourage me to embrace my inner whore? ARGH! _The sexual frustration that had been gradually building since the first moment I laid eyes on Edward was becoming unbearable.

"Thanks Jess," I said. She beamed. I moved on to the next pair of panties…a silky pair of plain red bikini cut undies from Victoria's secret. They looked sexy, yet comfortable.

"Rosalie," I said immediately. No one responded. "I take everyone else's silence to mean that they did not bring these. All right! Lets see what she brought for me!"

"Actually…um…those are mine," Angela said, blushing furiously. I raised my eyebrows. _She has good taste. I'd wear those. Comfort and beauty can co-exist. _She handed me her gift, biting her lip guiltily. It was a tiny box…about six inches wide, six inches long, and two inches deep. I removed the paper and opened it.

"Handcuffs??" I said in disbelief. I looked closer and realized that these weren't the typical fuzzy pink handcuffs with safety releases you can find as gag gifts at stores like _Spencer's. _Instead, they were actual regulation handcuffs, the type my dad kept in the squad car. Angela flushed.

"My dad's done some work as a police chaplain," she explained in an embarrassed voice. "I asked him if he could get me a pair. I expected him to bombard me with questions, but as soon as I said that they were for you, and not for Ben and me, he was very cooperative." She grinned. "He said that, as a minister, he has no problem with people spicing up their love lives…as long as it's within the context of marriage." I groaned. Mr. Weber was doing our wedding. How on earth was I supposed to face him at the altar with him thinking about Edward and me engaging in weird bondage activities? I snorted. _Like Edward would need handcuffs to restrain me if he wanted to hold me down. Like handcuffs could keep him in place if _I_ wanted to keep him where I wanted him. _Alice was giggling, and I could tell that she was probably thinking the exact same thing. Suddenly, my heart stopped. If Mr. Weber used his position as a police chaplain to obtain the handcuffs, he must have gone to a cop in order to get them. There were only so many policemen in Forks, and all of them worked with my dad. My heart sunk right through my stomach.

"Only two pairs left!" Alice said in her sing-song trilling voice. I held them up, knowing that one had to be from Rosalie, while the other had to be from Alice.

"Let's see…a leopard print thong, and a pair bearing the Superman symbol." I chuckled. "Alice…I take it that you see yourself as a superhero, don't you?"

"You've got it!" She grinned. "How did you know that the leopard print wasn't me?"

"You don't seem the type to mix food and sex," I said with a shrug. Lauren's penciled-in eyebrows furrowed.

"What on _earth _do leopards have to do with food?" she said.

"I'm sure Rosalie will tell you when you're older," I said with a small smile. Lauren looked miffed. _Wow…_I thought. _The liquor must be loosening me up. I'm sassier than usual._ I grinned to myself. It was kinda nice to be the one who _wasn't_ getting stepped on for once.

"Rosalie and I actually went in on a gift together," Alice said. "I'll be right back." She raced to the other room and came back, toting a large suitcase with a big pink bow on it.

"Luggage!" I exclaimed happily, relieved to see the first sensible gift of the entire evening. "That's awesome Alice! Thank you so much! This will come in so useful for the honeymoon!" Alice rolled her eyes, and unlatched the suitcase. I gasped as she flipped the lid open. The suitcase was filled to the top with lingerie. There were see-through teddies, crotchless satin pajama pants, push-up bras that would make my breasts look three times their normal size, and various nightgowns that would leave very little to the imagination. I stared at the rainbow of colorful silk, lace, and ribbon that lay before me.

"Is there anything left for the rest of the public to buy at Victoria's Secret?" I wondered out loud.

"In the front compartment of the suitcase is your swimwear," Alice said, unzipping it for me. Inside were three skimpy string bikinis.

"I'm going somewhere warm then!" I said, delighted as the Swiss Alps happy place morphed into a Tropical Paradise happy place, somewhere in the back of my mind, complete with a sparkling naked Edward in the ocean. _Ahhhhh._

"Or, somewhere with a hot tub," Rosalie said loudly, bursting back into the room. Her hair was tousled, but aside from that she looked exactly as she had before.

"Drat…that could be anywhere," I said, stuffing the bikinis back into the suitcase. I gave Alice the cutest look I could manage.

"Please tell me? Just a little hint?" I begged.

"No." I pouted and turned my angel eyes to Rosalie.

"Just a hint, _sis?_" I ventured.

"Maybe later," Rosalie said, putting the gifts into a pile next to the couch. "But we've got more important things to do first." Jessica squealed and clapped her hands. Angela (who was now quite alert) made a face.

"Let me guess. We're going to change into pajamas, paint our toenails, and watch PBS…right?" I said hopefully.

"Well…you were close. The activity _does _start with a 'p,'" Alice admitted.

"Tell me."

"We got you a piñata!" Rosalie cried, disappearing into the next room. She returned with a humongous pink piñata that was dangling from a six-foot pole in one hand, and a wooden baseball bat in the other. I squinted at the papier-mâché creation. It most certainly wasn't shaped like a donkey. I sighed.

"It's another penis-themed item," I said, throwing my arms up in the air. "Just what I always wanted! How did you know?" Esme and Angela shot me sympathetic looks.

"Alice and I made this last week," Rosalie explained. "It's filled with…well…you'll see." Alice flicked the wrist of the hand that was holding the remote control. The soft jazz promptly switched to

_I know a girl who's tough but sweet_

_She's so fine she can't be beat_

_She's got everything that I desire_

_Sets the summer sun on fire_

_I want candy!_

_I want candy!_

For the first time all evening, I wished I had another drink.

"Um…" Angela said, raising her hand awkwardly. "Does it strike anyone else as a little…well…_wrong_…that we're beating a big penis with a baseball bat?"

"Naw…if we break the bat, we can always buy a new one," Rosalie said nonchalantly. "I hear that Newton's carries a fine selection." My eyes bugged at her. She winked. Angela and Jessica looked thoroughly perplexed, but then shrugged. Lauren knew better than to open her mouth.

We all took turns being blindfolded and swinging the bat. Each person got ten swings with the bat before having to turn it over to the next player, while Rosalie held the pole. I was glad that I wasn't holding the pole…the idea of getting hit with the bat wasn't a pleasant one. After the line went through three times, the thing broke open on my turn, raining tiny objects on my head. Everyone around be began cracking up.

"Look at what you won Bella!" Jessica shrieked. I removed the blindfold and looked around me.

I was, of course, surrounded with flat, square, foil packets.

_Condoms. Of course. Why wouldn't you rain contraceptives on the couple who has less reason to worry about pregnancy or STDs than any other couple in the last century__? _I thought, shaking my head at the irony. I brushed a few packets out of my hair before examining the other objects around me.

Dozens of candy hearts had fallen out of piñata. They were of an assortment of colors. I examined one.

"Do Me," I read, nonplussed. The room howled with laughter.

"Look at this one!" Jessica said, examining one. "Talk Dirty." Everyone began reading off the words on the candies. Lick Me. Let's Fuck. Cum on. I'll Screw You.

"So much for _Be Mine_ and _I Love You_," I muttered. I sighed, thinking back to the past February, when I sold my soul for a box of _normal _candy hearts. _Jake. Will you ever forgive me?_

"Don't forget to look at these!" Alice said excitedly, holding up three little booklets that had fallen out of the piñata. I took them from her and looked them over.

"A sex position of the day calendar," I said skeptically.

"That's from me," Rosalie explained. "It's a _must _have for every inexperienced couple—though, Emmett and I used ours up in twenty-seven days." I flipped through it, my eyebrows going higher with each turn of the page. Some of the positions looked impossible to get into. _A standing sixty-nine?_ I thought incredulously._ Give me a break! Even with one of the world's strongest husbands, I know I'd fall on my head._

"Thanks Rose. I'm sure this will come in…handy." After seeing the man's hands on the Christmas page, I dropped it like a hot rock and flipped through the next booklet.

"That book is actually from me," Esme said with a sweet smile.

"Coupons for sexual favors," I observed. At least this one was in English.

"They're actually really helpful," she admitted. "They're a great way to get your needs fulfilled without actually ordering your husband around and explaining what to do in bed," Esme said. "They save you a lot of awkward conversations." The room went silent as everyone stared at her. Suddenly, her eyes appeared glued her feet. "I'm…shutting up now," she said. For a moment I narrowed my eyes at Esme, wondering why a three-hundred-and-fifty-year-old _doctor_ would need explanations as to how to please a woman. The embarrassed look on her face told me that this discussion would be one better done in private. With half a smile, I opened the book to a random page.

"Good for one session of sex outdoors, under an open sky," I read thoughtfully. Lauren snatched it from my hand greedily and read the next page.

"Good for a whole day spent in bed together," she read out loud. She flipped to the next page. "Good for a one-hour erotic massage."

"Not bad," I admitted. "Thanks Esme." She grinned at me, and for a moment, I forgot that she was going to be my mother-in-law. She seemed more like an older sister.

"Look at the third book," Rosalie urged. I put the first two aside and glanced at the cover.

"It's a calendar," I said, confused. "Just a normal, everyday day planner."

"That's from me," Alice said. "Look closer." Upon closer inspection, I saw that every Saturday morning and every Wednesday evening had _Make Love to Edward_ penciled in.

"You scheduled my sex life," I said lamely. Alice grinned.

"You'll learn, once you're married, that as much as you _want _to have sex, that life tends to get busy. If you put it on the calendar, you guarantee that it will happen." She shifted her weight back and forth uncomfortably. "Jazz and I have found that if we don't make time for it, it doesn't happen."

"Emmett and I have never had that problem," Rosalie said, rolling her eyes.

"No comment," Esme said. Lauren howled with laughter.

"Way too much information," I said to myself, rubbing my temples, trying to stave off the headache that was forming. I looked closer at the calendar.

"You've also…er…scheduled in Edward's hunting trips," I noted, confused.

"You have to, um, coordinate the two of those items carefully, actually," Alice said. Angela, Lauren, and Jessica gave her expectant looks, demanding further explanation. Alice looked exasperated.

"When Cullen men go off on hunting trips for days on end together, it has a tendency to screw up your sex schedule," she explained quickly. She gave me a meaningful look. "We'll talk more about that later," she promised.

_Knock-Knock_

My head flew up, and I looked at the door. _Who could it be now? I hope Emmett's not back._

"It's Paul-Henri," came a very-French sounding voice through the door. Alice squealed, and the rest of the girls began clapping their hands and chattering excitedly.

"Not another stripper," I groaned, preparing for torment.

"No!" Rosalie said, laughing. "It's the Fabulous French Four. They're here to transform you."

"Transform me…" I whispered, wide-eyed, the implication of the words sinking in. _Now? Here? In front of the humans? Who are these men? Edward never mentioned anything about a French coven. And besides…he agreed that he'd do it himself!_

As if she could read my thoughts, Alice gave me a withering glance. "Chill, Bella. It's not what you think." She opened the door and ushered in four uniformed men. The first was pushing a cart covered with more containers of makeup than I'd see at a _Clinique _counter. The second was pushing a cart that contained an array of shoe-boxes, garment bags, and velvet jewelry boxes. The third was pushing a cart bearing an assortment of hair products, flat-irons, curling irons, and hair accessories. The fourth pushed a cart laden with hundreds of nail polish colors, some nail clippers, and dozens of tools that I didn't recognize, but assumed had to be manicure or pedicure related.

"Surprise!" they yelled. "It's make-over time!" The leader of the foursome (Paul-Henri, I assumed), sauntered up to me and looked me over, inspecting with a critical eye.

"I take et, Alize, dat diz young ladee ez…how did zheu zay et before…our _geenee-peeg Babee Doll?" _he asked.

"The one and only!" Alice said, squeezing my shoulders. I sighed, and tried to think positively.

_Well…at least I'm not going to be under-dressed when we go out to the bars…_

"Check out the outfit we got you!" Alice squealed. She hefted the garment bag off of the cart and unzipped it. I frowned at the hot-pink, sequined thing within. It didn't seem to be made of nearly enough cloth to properly cover my body.

_I guess that it depends on what you mean by "underdressed," _I thought sourly. I found myself pulled into a chair, and before I had time to process what was going on, my hair, nails, and skin were being attacked by the French Foursome…who seemed determined to turn me into a work of art.

**Answer to last chapter's trivia: In the cafeteria, when Bella dared Edward to eat a bite of pizza, he got some of his venom on the pizza, which she then proceeded to eat. The question sounded so much dirtier than it actually was...ha ha!**


	6. The Honeymoon Survival Kit

_Author's Note: I can't even tell you how many of these "Survival Kits" I've put together over the last four years for the weddings I've been involved with. I got the idea for making them from a friend who's a registered nurse and they've been a hit ever since. As usual, a big thanks to Blondie AKA Robin and Warui-Usagi for looking over this. I'd also like to thank Angeliss and Leechlover, who also volunteered to help me with editing. You ladies are amazing!_

_Usual disclaimers apply._

**Chapter 6: The Honeymoon Survival Kit**

"Wow…I have no words. Just…wow," Alice breathed, her goldenrod eyes gleaming with pride.

"You _do _look amazing," Jessica gushed, nodding vigorously, her curls bouncing wildly.

"Absolutely incredible," Angela agreed, in an awed voice.

"It'll do," Rosalie said approvingly, tilting her head to one side. "It will do nicely."

"But eet eez Ezabella's opeenyonz dat are emportant!" Paul-Henri said. He leaned over my shoulder and spun my chair around so that I faced the full-length mirror that covered one of the suite's walls. My little-black-dress-clad posse was gathered around me, oohing and aahing like it was the fourth of July. I, on the other hand, frowned at my appearance, unsure of what to think.

My hair had been shaped into a colossal cascade of corkscrew curls. Henri had teased up some of the under-layers to add volume, and then used a one-inch curling iron to shape it into dozens of loose, glossy ringlets, some of which were pinned back artfully, while the rest tumbled down my back and over my shoulders. Nestled into the shiny mass of curls was a glittering diamond tiara, capturing a sheer one-tier veil. An intricate diamond necklace adorned my throat, while matching bracelets and anklets adorned my wrists and ankles. Aside from my engagement ring, I almost never wore jewelry in normal life, and I was constantly aware of the metal on my skin.

I was wearing more makeup than I'd ever worn in my life, and the colors were darker than what I was used to. I had to admit that the eyeliner was artfully applied; I'd never figured out how to put the stuff on without stabbing myself in the eye. The three different shades of silver that accented my large brown eyes drew attention to them. My eyelashes were curled, and the special no-clump-waterproof mascara made them look three times longer than usual. My eyebrows were tweezed (which hadn't been a fun process), forming two thin, straight lines above my eyes. The French Four had applied a deep shade of magenta lipstick that they'd allowed to dry, followed by a glossy topcoat. They assured me that the lipstick wouldn't kiss or wear off for at least fourteen hours. _Not that Edward's going to be around to kiss it off, so it doesn't really matter, _I thought bitterly.

My fingernails (which were previously jagged and bitten at) were now smooth, long (but not unreasonably so), and exactly matched the lipstick. The shiny topcoat of my fresh pedicure gleamed from within my strappy, four-inch, spike-heeled pair of dark, hot-pink shoes. I had to admit that the shoes did change the appearance of my body. My calves, which were forced to contract, looked very shapely. The angle they put my legs at forced me to stick my butt and chest out a little to compensate, adding the illusion of curves to my too-thin body. As good as the shoes looked; I worried about how I was going to be able to walk in them. The skin on my arms, chest, and back had been rubbed with some exotic smelling balm that not only moisturized my skin, giving it a supple appearance, but also added a subtle glitter, barely noticeable.

But it was the _dress _that really altered my appearance.

It was the exact shade of dark, bold pink that the lipstick and nail polish were. The stretchy material was covered in swirling patterns of sequins that made the dress sparkle like a disco ball. Its hemline was asymmetrical, reaching nearly to my knee on the right side, but slanting rapidly up to expose two-thirds of my left thigh. A slit in the short side of the dress exposed another three inches. The bust line had some kind of a padded, under-wire push-up bra built right into it, which pressed my small breasts up and together, showing cleavage I never knew I had. The neckline was a curved V, like the bottom half of a heart. A halter-top enabled the dress to leave my entire back completely bare. Though the entire thing was as tight as a wetsuit, hugging my body like a second skin, it did not ride or bunch up when I moved, but fit as nicely as if it'd been tailored specifically for me—which, knowing Alice, it probably had.

"Wat do eau tink?" Paul-Henri whispered in my ear, placing on hand on my bare shoulder, and trailing his fingers down my arm.

"I look…like…like…" I faltered, struggling with how to best react to the seductive image before me.

"Yez…?" Paul-Henri said, his hands tousling my hair, giving it a bit more volume. He pressed his nose to my hair; taking in the scent of whatever product he'd used in it and smiled approvingly.

"I look like a ho," I said uncomfortably at last, after struggling to come up with the right adjective. I bit my lip and gave him an apologetic look, while the rest of the girls gasped indignantly. Paul-Henri threw his hands up in the air while the rest of his team groaned.

"No! How dare you say such blasphemy!" Alice cried in disbelief, squeezing my shoulders. "You look _hot._"

"Forty meenutz et took uz to transform diz mouzy leettle triffle eento a god-_dess_, and diz ez de tanks ve get?" Paul-Henri said with a sigh. He kissed my cheek and squeezed my shoulders. "Eau are zo zexie, mon cherie," he said. I squirmed, uncomfortable under his touch.

"Don't worry about him," Jacques, the black-haired, bespectacled nail technician told me, in perfect, unaccented (though high-timbered) English, as he finished pressing a jeweled pattern into each big toenail. "He's not trying to get fresh with you." Paul-Henri peeked his head around my shoulder.

"I'm gay!" he sang proudly, tossing my hair one last time, adding a final spritz of hairspray.

"I…erm…kinda already figured that out," I said lamely, giving the nail tech a weak smile. Arnaud and Bernard, other two members of the makeover mafia laughed out loud.

"You are quite stunning," Esme assured me. "Just look at yourself!" I dared another glance. There was no denying that the woman in the mirror was magazine-cover pretty, but I didn't know where _me _was underneath all the layers of nail polish and hair product.

"Say cheese!" Lauren said, snapping a picture just as I was turning from the mirror. She played back the image and grinned, bringing the camera over to show me. The photo only confirmed my worst suspicions.

"Yep. I definitely look like a whore," I sighed. _What would Charlie say if he saw the way I was dressed right now? _I wondered if a heart attack or a stroke would be more likely. The rest of the girls rolled their eyes, dragging me back to the couch as Alice paid the Fabulous French Four and ushered them out, thanking them profusely. I tried to walk in the heels, and was surprised that, though they were far from comfortable, my feet did not slide around inside of them…nor did my ankles twist. In fact, some kind of gel cushioning had been added to the inside surface, protecting my feet from blisters. I wondered if Alice had bought me a pair of shoes designed for professional ballroom dancers. I transferred my wallet to the tiny black purse that Alice had insisted that I carry instead of my battered khaki one, and slipped it over my shoulder. "All right girls," I sighed in resignation. "Let's go get this bar-hopping over with. I mean…if I'm not ready now, when will I be? Let's go." As bad as the prospect of clubbing sounded, I was eager to get out of the penis-themed hotel room.

"No so fast, Missy," Rosalie said sternly, sitting me back down in one of the squashy armchairs.

"There's one more gift that you have to open before we head out to the bars," Alice said.

"There is?" I said in a voice that clearly asked _do I have to?_

"There is!" Jessica insisted, running into the next room and returning a moment later, dragging a huge gift bag behind her. It rattled and clanked as she pulled it into the room and heaved it onto the coffee table.

"Why did this one have to wait?" I asked. Angela and Esme ducked their heads, while the other four laughed merrily.

"This gift is more…_practical_…than the other ones," Esme admitted. "It's a 'Honeymoon Survival Kit," so to speak." My heart thudded.

"Edward didn't tell you about his worries that I wouldn't be able to 'handle' having sex with him…did he?" I blurted out in a horrified voice. Jessica and Lauren immediately burst out into laughter while Rosalie gave me a haughty look, and I realized the implications of what I'd just said. Esme just shook her head.

"This was actually Carlisle's idea." My jaw dropped. She looked uneasy, but continued. "He was concerned when he saw on your medical record that you'd never been to a gynecologist, so he wanted to make sure that you were…er…well…_medically prepared_ for all of the complications that could come up during…during…" her voice trailed off, embarrassed.

"During your transition into marital bliss," Rosalie finished, smiling broadly, thoroughly enjoying my discomfort.

"Excuse me?" I said, my voice ending in a shrill squeak. I couldn't believe that Esme and Carlisle…not to mention the other Cullens…had been discussing my lack of sexual experience behind my back. My medical records! _Aren't they breaking some sort of patient-privacy laws here? _I wondered.

"There are definitely some…well…_supplies_ that we wanted to make sure that you had handy, you know…in case anything went wrong on the honeymoon," Alice added. My heart pounded. _Nothing is going to go wrong on the honeymoon, _I insisted to myself. _Edward is not going to accidentally kill me, or turn me into a vampire or break my spine during sex. They can worry all they want, but I know him, and I know that we'll make this work._

"We _all_ contributed to this," Jessica said brightly.

"Some of us more than others," Rosalie said dryly.

"A lot of thought and discussion went into compiling this, but we think we have everything in here that you would need to take care of your more…well…_human_ needs," Alice finished. The implication was clear, though it would, of course go over Angela, Jessica, and Lauren's heads. _If I were a vampire, many of these things would probably be unnecessary._

"Thank you," I said though gritted teeth. This was bad.

"We'll pull out the items one at a time, and explain the importance of each of them," Alice said importantly.

"There's a lot of stuff in there that is seriously useful," Esme said, in a slightly embarrassed voice. "I didn't have some of these things back when I got married the first time." I suddenly had a vision of Esme as a young, terrified human, going into an arranged marriage back in a different era, and understood her desire to help me, as awkward as it was.

"First time?" Angela asked curiously. Esme shifted her weight uncomfortably.

"I was married briefly to someone else before Carlisle. Long story. That relationship ended very badly," she said quickly. Angela was sensitive enough to pick up on the cue that now was hardly the time or place to explore that history.

"Trust me, you want this stuff," Rosalie said. "For _human _sex, they're all very practical items." I couldn't question further…not in front of my friends.

"Alright, you've got me curious enough now," I admitted. "Go ahead. Show me what you got."

Beaming happily, Alice stood and plunged her hand into the giant bag. "The first item is…sunscreen!" she said, whipping out a bottle of Banana Boat SPF 45. I squinted at it.

"Erm…thanks," I said frowning. "But...why?"

"Because sunburned sex is _not _fun sex!" she said, matter-of-factly. I snorted. _Like you'd know, Miss I-don't-remember-my-human-life,_ I thought sarcastically. Rosalie reached into the bag and pulled out a bottle of green, goopy, aloe vera gel.

"Lidocaine-infused aloe," she explained. "Because even sunburned sex is better than no sex at all." The girls were laughing mirthfully at that one. A rush of understanding swept through me as the Swiss Alps scenario disappeared completely.

"I knew it! We _are _going somewhere warm!" I exclaimed happily. Visions of swaying palm trees and white sandy beaches came to mind. The vamps exchanged looks.

"Actually, not necessarily," Rosalie said defensively. "You can sunburn very easily while skiing."

"Only on my face," I objected. "The parts that really matter would be covered up by ski gear. Tropical paradise, here I come!" Alice shook her head.

"Don't get so sure of yourself. There are some places in the world where you can go skiing and to the beach all in the same day. This tells you nothing!"

"I still think I'm going somewhere sunny," I insisted, gloating.

"As much as I'd love you to guess the secret location, we must move along if we're going to stay on schedule," Alice said. I sighed and rolled my eyes. Esme reached in the bag. She pulled out a bottle of Excedrin.

"This is so that no one can use the excuse 'I have a headache,'" she laughed. I smirked. I knew that Edward complained of headaches from time to time, which was related in some way or another to his ability to read minds; but I doubted that human medicine would have any effect on them. _No headache could stop me from wanting him, though, _I thought firmly.

"Condoms, in case you mess up your birth-control," Lauren said, pulling out a packet of Trojans. I suppressed a laugh of derision. _Like I need birth-control, what, with Edward being sterile for the last century,_ I thought, scoffing mentally.

"A pregnancy test, in case you _really _mess up your birth-control!" Jessica howled, waving an E.P.T. around over her head. The rest of the ladies joined her raucous laughter and I rolled my eyes. _One more item that is definitely on my list of things to leave behind. Trading the possibility of children for eternity with Edward? I can deal with that._

"Candles, to help set the mood," Angela said, pulling out several fragrant candles, which were all in little glass jars. She set them on the coffee table. I picked one up and sniffed it. It smelled good…floral. I turned the jar over to find out what scent it was and actually laughed out loud. _Freesia. Of course._

"_Passion _fruit scented body-butter…to _really_ set the mood!" Esme said. She winked. "You can use this with the erotic massage coupon."

"Good suggestion," I admitted. Then I stopped to think about it. _Edward has such cold hands. I'm not sure that a massage from him would really be all that pleasurable. Not unless we were somewhere that was _swelteringly _hot. _The more I thought about the bikinis and sunscreen, the more likely it seemed that I'd end up somewhere near the equator. The idea pleased me. As much as I loved Forks, the idea of seeing Edward's iridescent skin shimmering in the sun it was appealing to no end. _Sparkle penis,_ I thought, giggling. _Wow._

Rosalie then reached in. "A gallon of pure, undiluted, cranberry juice," she said, heaving the jug out and plopping it down in front of me. "In case you get a bladder infection. I hear those are the pits…" Lauren nodded vigorously, as if she had quite a bit of experience with them.

Esme pulled out the next item, a brownish-orange cylindrical bottle with a white cap. "I also had Carlisle write you a prescription for a week's worth of Bactrim," she said shaking the bottle of pills. "It will clear up any bladder infection in less than two days."

"Where can I get that stuff?" Lauren asked quickly. "I get bladder infections all the time!"

"Usually, you have to have a urinalysis that shows that you have an infection," Esme explained. "However, sometimes, physicians will prescribe them to newlyweds so that they don't have to interrupt their honeymoons to spend half a day in a ready-care clinic, since they're so common."

"Bladder infection?" I asked, confused.

Rosalie gave me a patronizing look. "The opening to your urethra is very close to the opening of your vagina, in case you didn't pay very good attention in Anatomy and Physiology. If you don't adequately clean the area up after sex, you'll be prone to infections. You'll feel like you have to pee every two seconds, and the urine will burn as it comes out. You totally won't feel like having sex. At the doctor's office, they actually call it 'honeymoon cystitis.'" I wondered what Rosalie's specialty had been when she'd gone to medical school. She'd be the scariest OB/Gyn in the world.

"You _will _get one if you're not careful," Alice said authoritatively. "Make sure to pee after sex. That helps to prevent them as well." I inwardly wondered if she'd "seen" me suffering from one. _Of all the things to have visions about…_I thought wryly. As if to follow up on the previous train of thought, Alice tossed me the next two items at once. "Monostat One and a prescription bottle of Diflucan, in case you get a yeast infection," she said, as I eyed each package. "Just follow the directions on the package if you smell anything fishy." Laughter erupted from the group at the word "fishy," as if they all were in on some joke that I didn't get. _I guess that yeast infections will be yet one more thing on my list of things to "Google," _I thought.

Lauren reached in and tossed me a cardboard box. "Thin maxi pads, to catch the stuff that drips out of you afterward," she said. She gave me a serious look. "Douching is a bad idea. My gynecologist said that it can lead to pelvic inflammatory disease." _Crap. I don't know what "douching" is either,_ I thought miserably. _Why, oh why didn't Renee ever talk to me about this stuff? _I giggled hysterically at the thought of asking Charlie. _Can you say awkward?_

"Tampons, in case you get your period," Alice said, holding up a blue Tampax box. I nodded once, gratefully. My period was as regular as clockwork, and depending on how long our honeymoon was, I would probably need them. Suddenly, a terrible question popped into my head. _Does Edward have a harder time being around me when I'm on my period? _I wondered. _I mean…sure I use tampons, so it's not like the blood is just hanging out in a pad, but he still has to be able to smell it. _I was revolted. The idea that Edward would get _thirsty _after smelling my used tampons made me want to gag. I'd never asked him about it…the question was so embarrassing. He'd never brought it up, but, then again, he _was _a gentleman. I then realized that, once I was turned into a vampire, I'd never have to worry about being on the rag again. It was a comforting thought. _Enough about periods, _I thought to myself. _I'm officially grossed out; on to the rest of the gifts. _

I turned my attention to Jessica, who was rooting through the bag. She pulled out a purple and white tube. "Vagisil, to help take care of that burning, feminine itch," she said.

"What burning, feminine itch?" I asked stupidly. The rest of the women in the room (except for Angela) exchanged glances.

"Trust me…when you feel it, you'll know," Lauren said, arching one perfectly tweezed eyebrow, reasserting her haughtiness. I found myself glad that after tonight, I'd never have to see her again. She wasn't even on the guest list for the wedding. _I don't know which I'll miss more, _I thought acidly. _Periods or her; it's a pretty close tie._

"Pamprin and Midol, in case you get PMS," Angela said, setting the next two bottles on the table.

"KY and Astroglide, to keep you slipping and sliding," Lauren said, setting her bottles next to Angela's. She thrust her hips, making humping motions, which everyone ignored and she self-consciously stopped. I shook my head, almost embarrassed _for _her. I picked up the Astroglide bottle and read the back out loud.

"Experience pure sexcitement with Astroglide's new premium lubricant, Astroglide X. This new formula was designed for those who demand high performance products to enhance their love life. Astroglide X contains a unique blend of high quality ingredients – known to act as skin conditioners – for enhanced silky sensations and prolonged mutual stimulation. For a truly SEXSATIONAL experience, add Astroglide X."

"Sexsational!" Jessica cackled. "That is _so_ my new favorite word!" I nodded in assent. _Can't think of a better word to describe my fiancé, _I thought.

It was Angela's turn to pull from the bag. "Chapstick, to keep your lips kissable and soft," she said, tossing a three-pack of Lipsmackers at me. I fumbled them, and was happy to see that they were actually normal flavors like cherry, vanilla, and mint. They all contained sunscreen. _Again…this adds to my growing evidence to support the beachside honeymoon theory._

"And finally…most important of all…" Rosalie reached her hand into the bag. The rest of the girls began to make drum roll sounds with their hands on the coffee table. _What's it going to be now? _I wondered. I tried to think of any other sex related item that could have been bought at Safeway and was coming up blank.

"Ta-da!" Alice cried, as Rosalie, with a flourish whipped the final item out of the bag. I stared, aghast, then swallowed hard. It was the last thing that I would have expected to see in a bag of drugstore items.

"A nurse costume?" I squeaked, in a voice that said _you've gotta be joking_. "That's in the _survival_ kit? With all the medications and practical things, you put a nurse costume? As in…our sex life will not survive without it?"

"It's from Emmett," Rosalie said with glee, a mirthful look on her face, reveling in my humiliation. "He was very insistent that you _needed_ one."

"Of course," I said sarcastically. "Of all the medical complications that Edward and I could face on our honeymoon, forgetting the nurse costume is the most serious."

As if he'd been waiting outside the door for his cue, Emmett burst into the room, dressed in regular clothes, his Ice-Sculpture-Delivery-Man costume gone. "It _would _constitute as sexual emergency, if you ask me. Nurse costumes are the _best!_ Besides, if you're going to be messing around with a bunch of medically related stuff, you might as well do it in the proper attire," he said in a boisterous voice. Rosalie grinned. I covered my eyes and sighed. The last thing I needed right now was kinky sex advice from the "Raging Bear."

"Go away Emmett," I groaned. He ignored me, and instead strode up behind me and began tickling me furiously. I laughed and squirmed uncontrollably, much to my dismay. _There's nothing funny about this. Why is he forcing me to laugh? _After about a minute of torture, he stopped, and looked me right in the eye.

"There's a little-known Cullen family secret that may be of interest to you," he said, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"What's that?" I wondered in a grumpy voice.

"Like you…Edward is _very _ticklish," the massive monster said in a serious voice, his dimples deepening as he grinned. "He may be stronger than you, but if you get him in the side, just beneath the rib, he's completely helpless."

I tucked the tidbit away for future use, but then narrowed my eyes at him, putting my hands on my hips. "What are you still doing here, Em? I thought bachelorette parties strictly for guests of the XX chromosomal makeup."

He chuckled. "Don't worry; I'm not here to stay. Pierre just wanted me to let everyone know that the limo is here to take you guys out to the clubs."

I frowned, glancing at Alice. "I thought you said that the bars and clubs were walking distance from here," I said, confused.

"They are," she replied. "That doesn't mean that we're walking though." She snorted with derision. "Come on! You don't think that I'd make you walk half a mile on concrete sidewalks in heels? You'd break an ankle!" From her serious glance, I didn't doubt it.

As my ladies in black grabbed their purses, reapplied their lipstick, and headed for the door, Emmett pulled me aside. "Pssst! Bella!" he whispered, motioning me into a corner.

"What is it?" I whispered back, wondering why we were whispering. He glanced around, making sure that none of the humans were listening in on our conversation.

"You know how you keep trying to seduce Edward and he keeps getting away before anything happens?" My jaw dropped. _How does_ he_ know anything about that? _I wondered. I eyed Alice suspiciously.

"What about it?" I asked, angry that everyone seemed to know what went on in the privacy of my little bedroom. Emmett gave me a fond smile.

"If he saw how you looked right now, he wouldn't stand a chance. I'm going to say this in the most big-brotherly way possible: the men out there tonight aren't even going to know what hit them; the word _hot_ doesn't even begin to describe how good you look tonight." My face suddenly felt very, very warm. _Was my future brother-in-law drooling over me?_

"Um…thank you? I think…" I faltered. He grinned widely.

"Gotta jet, sis," he said, patting me on the head, which felt a little patronizing. "Have a good time. Prepare to be hit on persistently by horny human males. They'll be after you tonight like you wouldn't believe." With that, the gargantuan vampire was gone and Alice was ushering me out the door and to the elevators.

_What have I gotten myself into?_


End file.
